The Nobody Virus
by hajikurazaki19
Summary: A realistic portrayal. The world is a dark place, full of manipulative people with evil intentions. Sometimes, the innocent get stripped of their innocence in order to fulfill the agenda of the powerful. Sora is the innocent. Roxas is the powerful.
1. The Hotel

**This is just the first chapter of yet another epic. Both me and DeadShut are writing this together. We own nothing. But, just a warning. This is violent, crazy, and a little more realistic than the normal "real" Kingdom Hearts. And now, a word from DeadShut.**

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**You ever notice how people have a phobia towards scary pictures of people with gray/white skin and dark circles under their eyes? Because our ancestors, who mostly resided in the jungle, had multiple encounters with deadly arachnids, most humans today have arachnophobia to some degree to help protect us (although modern-day spiders are rarely as dangerous as their ancestors). If we have a phobia of spiders because of what they've done to us, than why do we have a phobia of dark-eyed, pale-skinned people? And, if spiders are still around, then...**

...but it's probably for the best not to think about that. The thing is, evil lurks in this world. Not the sense of evil you may think; there are no demons lurking in the dark corners, no plesiosaurs in lakes, no moths in the form of men...but there are those who relish in acting out in cruelty. And, when the majority of the population is threatened by these malicious beings, there _must_ be a hero there to try and save the day.

**Whether or not the hero succeeds, however, is up to those supporting him.**

We hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

_"Another murder in the downtown area has police scrambling to find the leader of the ever elusive Heartless gang. The Heartless are rumored to be a gang of ruthless Internet pirates, protecting their crime and apparently their boss. The Chief of Police is asking the public to keep their eyes peeled, and to report any suspicious activity."_

"You see, Sora, that's why you are staying here."

"But, Dad…"

"I don't want to hear it. You are going to stay here until we come back."

"Mom!"

"Your father is just trying to protect you, honey."

"We'll go somewhere tomorrow, kiddo, okay? I promise."

Sora sighed and sank back to his knees in front of the TV. He flipped through the channels lazily. He didn't feel like listening to the Heartless murders again. So far, his vacation was anything but. He hadn't gone anywhere since he arrived at the hotel, and desperately wanted to go see the sights with his parents, but they were always busy. And today was their date night.

"Stay here, Sora. Your mother and I will call when we're on our way back."

Sora groaned a response. His mother and father opened the door, reciting every rule they had ever created, before they hastily closed the door and rushed down to the cab that was waiting for them. Sora watched them through the window and grimaced as it started to rain.

"Let's go to New York." Sora said aloud. He waved his hands in the same way his mother did when she was talking his father into doing things. "There are lots of lovely things to do, and Sora will love the Statue of Liberty."

He gave up on his attempts at mocking his parents rather quickly as he continued to flip through the channels. He stopped when he saw the flashing lights and loud riffs of a concert, and he smiled as he saw it was his favorite musician, Demyx.

He called room service and ordered a few plates of food, but he didn't touch them. After the concert, he grew bored. He flipped through the TV channels again, he jumped onto his computer, but nothing seemed to keep his attention for more than five minutes. He sat by the window and hummed the songs from the concert. He slowly stopped as a store on the corner caught his attention.

"I wonder." Sora whispered to himself. He quickly jumped to his feet, threw on some fresh clothing and hurried down to the lobby.

The concierge clerk bowed his head respectfully. "Is there anything I can get for you, sir?"

"No, I'm good."

The doorman opened the door and Sora ran across the street. He figured that it was so close to the hotel, that his parents wouldn't know he had gone, and he needed to find out what was wrong with his computer anyway. It had been acting funny the past couple of days. He was just going to ask a question and then he was going to go back.

The rain was falling lightly. But, in the nighttime, it seemed to rush down with a purpose. Perhaps to make the roads slick, or just to make a bad day for a stranger, even worse. However, Sora managed to make it across the street without a problem. He stood on front of the dusty glass door and looked up at the sign. It flickered with dying neon lights, but it was calling to him.

The bell rang, echoing in the empty store. Sora browsed the shelves slowly, looking over computer parts he had never seen before. They had signs posted beneath them, but he couldn't make heads or tails of what the strange computer language was. His eyes soon fell upon an unusual looked rod. It was sitting on a velvet pillow at the counter.

"Hello?" Sora called. His voice fell dead. There was no answer. "Hello? I need to ask a question."

Still silence.

He looked at the little place card that sat in front of the red velvet pillow.

"Keyblade?" Sora said softy. "I've never heard of that part before."

Sora carefully picked up the slender metal rod. It fit in his hand perfectly, like it was designed for him. He looked it over. It appeared to have a solid look, but the dim light could just show the shallow etches on the body. Sora placed it back on the velvet pillow, and milled around the store for a little longer. When no one came out from the back, Sora sighed and left, praying that he wouldn't get in trouble for entering a store that was obviously closed.

Sora hummed to himself as he turned the corner of an aisle, and his phone rang in his pocket. He fumbled for it and held it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Sora?"

"Dad?"

"Yeah, we're in the elevator. We're coming back up. Your mother forgot to grab her purse. So, when we knock on the door, let us in. Just letting you know."

"What?" Sora said loudly.

He hung up the phone and raced out of the store. He hadn't even been paying attention and knocked the velvet pillow to the floor. His parents had come back unexpectedly. He had only been gone for ten minutes, how could he have been so careless?

He crossed the street and flew up the stairs. He had decided that waiting for the elevator would be too long. If he was lucky, he could get there just in time to make an excuse. He opened the door to the hallway and peered out, looking for his father.

Terror struck his heart when he looked out the doorway and saw a tall man, maybe six feet, carrying his mother over his shoulder. He didn't look that old, possibly in his thirties, but his green eyes glowed nightmarishly. He was grinding his teeth.

"We have to go now." The man whispered harshly. "Marluxia!"

"What?" Came a voice from the inside of the hotel room. "I just…"

"We don't have time for that." The other man hissed. "We need to go…now!"

The man who left the room was tall as well. He was carrying a scythe, and he was dragging Sora's barely conscious father along the length of the hallway. Sora closed the door to a sliver as they past. He gasped, and a hard thwack at the door shocked him. He could see the scythe sliding in and he forced the door as far closed as his strength would allow. He could hear the cold breath of one of the men on the other side. He saw a swish of pink hair and the door opened farther.

"I've got another one!" He smiled wider, forcing the door open more. Sora could see his blue eyes, and he panicked. "Can I kill this one? Please?"

"I suppose so, but we really need to go."

"No!" Sora shouted.

"Come here," Marluxia whispered. "I won't hurt you."

Sora was almost inclined to relax and let the door fly open, but a shout from below made him think better of it. Sora fell to the floor as Marluxia's strength faded. He could hear the banter on the other side. It sounded like they were running. Away from something.

"Hey!"

Sora leaned over the banister. He saw a boy who was maybe a year older than he was. He was holding a metal pipe.

"Don't let them get away!"

Sora frowned. "They're crazy!"

The boy rushed up the stairs. His light tan hair was tied back, and it looked like he had been punched quite a few times. He pulled the door open and ran down the hallway. Sora followed him. He seemed to be the least threatening, and if he was going to confront that pink haired man, he didn't want to be alone.

"Oh my god!" Sora exclaimed. The hall way, which had been completely white before, was covered in thick pools of blood. The blood had already clotted, and turned black. Even the windows were slathered in the sticky life source.

The other boy covered his mouth and nose. The stench was horrendous. Sora couldn't hold it. He clutched his stomach and vomited. And though his knees were trembling with weakness, he wouldn't dare fall into whoever's blood it was. He couldn't bear the thought.

"Stay close to the walls."

Sora did what the other boy told him. Their feet squelched on the soaked carpet, and Sora kept his fingers away from the newly painted wallpapers. He prayed that he wasn't walking in what was left of his parents. They came upon an open hotel door, the other boy peered around the doorway and backed up.

"What is it?" Sora said.

The boy covered his mouth. "Quiet. Listen, I'm Riku, and you just entered the war."

"What war?"

Riku peered around the doorway again. He slipped in. Sora followed him. Riku slipped down a hidden stairway.

"I didn't know they had these." Sora said as he jumped down the steps by threes.

"They have them in certain rooms for certain people, if you know what I mean." Riku said. He burst through the steel door at the bottom. They ended up in an alleyway.

"Shit!" Riku cursed. "They got away."

Sora was out of breath. He grabbed at the stitch in his side and wheezed. He looked down the alley. There was a black van at the end. It was parked, so Sora didn't pay it any mind, but it wasn't long before harsh light blinded him, and the screech of car wheels drove his body into survival mode.

"Watch out!"

Riku tackled Sora, and saved him from death. Sora instantly kicked him away and jumped to his feet. He raced after the van, screaming for it to stop. He tried in vain to get close enough to at least catch the door handle. It sped away, leaving him in a cloud of dust and the angry steam of New York City.

"Come on," Riku said, pulling his hair free of his hair tie. "We need to go."

"They have my parents!" Sora protested. "I can't leave them."

"We'll you can't save them either." Riku retorted. "So stop whining. You don't want to be here when the cops show up. They wouldn't take kindly to a whiny boy who was witness to a mass murder."

"Murder?" Sora said, high pitched.

Riku shrugged. "Are you coming?"

Sora nodded. He followed Riku, sneaking across the street. He looked back at the hotel. It had flown into a frenzy at the discovery of the gruesome sight upstairs. Riku led him to the same computer store he had been in before. He pushed the door open lazily and coughed as he entered.

"Riku?" came a soft girl's voice. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Riku answered. "I've got a witness."

A girl with short red hair stood up from behind the counter. He looked gentle enough, but Sora could see she was rough. Her eyes were sorry. Like she knew what had happened.

"What happened?"

"It was the Heartless." Riku explained. "I'm sure of it."

"Who's this?"

Riku shrugged. "I couldn't risk him ratting me out to the cops. I saved him. He's a witness. We could use him."

Sora was drinking in their conversation, not understanding a word of it. "Heartless? You mean that gang of internet pirates?"

"Don't believe everything you see on TV, kid." Riku scoffed. He put his metal pipe on the counter. "They use the internet, sure, but they are nothing but a bunch of hate mongers."

"So, what's your name?" the red haired girl asked. She smiled.

"Sora."

"Don't give out your name so easily, kid." Riku said. "You don't know who we are."

Sora frowned. "You're Riku."

"I could have told you anything." Riku snapped. "You don't know who I am. Just because I said I'm Riku, doesn't make it true."

"Riku, stop picking on him." She looked at Sora. "I'm, Kairi. We should be friends."

Sora nodded, but still couldn't shake the feeling that he saw someone he knew in the black van. "Nice to meet you."

"They took his parents," Riku said, changing the subject. "That's not like them."

Kairi nodded. "Maybe they're planning something big."

"Who knows?" Riku whispered. "But, maybe this kid can help us."

Kairi nodded. "Hey, Sora?"

"Yeah?"

"You want us to help you get your parents back?"

* * *

**We'll post another chapter as soon as we see how well this does. If no one likes it, we will stop. There is no need to put in so much effort if no one reads it.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us.**


	2. Welcome Home

**Good afternoon. Here's the exciting second chapter. And...now a word from DeadShut. (He wrote this by the way.)**

**Hello, all. DeadShut here. I don't have much to say, other than "enjoy", which I hope you do. Oh, and...welcome to the Organization. **

* * *

"What the _fuck_ is the meaning of this? Let me go!" Ryan shouted, and he tried with all his might to flex out of his rope bonds, but glued to the chair he remained.

He hadn't a clue where he was, but last night he had been taken from his home (and his bed) in Queens by a group of men in dark clothing, blindfolded, driven elsewhere, and tied down to a wooden chair in the center of a dark basement. Although he did not know who his kidnappers were, he counted six of them, all wearing hoods over their heads, shadows being the only masks needed.

One was right in front of him, looking down, arms crossed. He turned around to one of his fellows and said in a quiet voice that sent chills down Ryan's spine, "Zexion? The information?"

Another voice replied, lower, younger, and with a slight British twinge to it, a voice that either lacked all emotions or at least attempted to.

"Ah, yes," said this other man. The shuffling of papers was heard. Ryan bared his teeth and gave another flex; nothing. The other man continued, "Name: Ryan Hall. Age: Seventeen. According to Facebook, in a relationship with Lily Ion, also seventeen. IP Address, ."

"Ah," said Ryan, a grin slowly playing on his lips. "I get it. You're apart of the Heartless gang, those hackers you see on TV."

"Not quite," said another kidnapper with an even lower voice that was thick with impatience. "The Heartless are a mere tool, a means to an end, made up by the weakest of men, and our scapegoats. Do not compare us to those pathetic '_Internet_ _pirates_'. Continue, Zexion…"

"Er, yes," spoke the young British man again. "Anyways…Height, 5"11, Weight, 130 lbs., Eye Color: Blue, Hair Color: Blonde. Author of second-place winning essay _The Chaos Theory_, which lost its title of first place due to frightening other students' parents."

Ryan's heart sunk faster than lead dropped into water. How did these people know of his essay?

"Such a waste," said the man standing right in front of him sadly. "Such a waste of your time, to not get first place."

Ryan spat back, "What's it matter to you, anyways?" He heard his voice crack, and blushed, not because of the high pitch he had just reached, but because the man had just spoken the words that had been running through his mind for weeks now.

_The Chaos Theory: A Study of Anarchy and the Butterfly Effect_. Ten pages long, eleven-point font, strong vocabulary, brilliant philosophy from a minor, yet lost to a rinky-dink essay on the effects of religion in culture, by some twat who had English class with Ryan every day. The essays were for a contest, the Writer's Youth contest that had the theme of "Worldview" this year. Being an avid reader on Chaos Theory since his freshman year, Ryan was happy to write up an essay about it. When he handed it in, his teacher (who was one of the judges) was ecstatic, and Ryan was sure that first prize would be his.

But it was not his. When the essays were put on display for public viewing, many parents felt offended. His essay had to be taken down due to the controversy, and first prize was given to Adam McLean, one of the biggest assholes who Ryan had ever met. Cocky, obnoxious, and flat-out impolite, McLean danced up onto the stage and claimed the prize he should not have been given. Due to the uproar the parents causes when seeing Ryan's essay, Ryan was forced to wait out in the hall, alone, and was given his blue ribbon once everybody was gone. His English teacher also approached him sadly and showed him that his essay had been ripped in two by a couple of offended fathers, who also promised to press charges against the school for "corrupting their youth" even though Ryan's affiliation with his own high school was lacking, and _Chaos Theory_ was based on nothing taught in a textbook. Ryan walked home, unacknowledged by his neglectful parents, ran up to his room, and cried his eyes out.

The cruelty of the bastards and the pure jealousy that came with losing first place haunted every corner of his mind for the next couple of weeks. In the shower, he daydreamt of Adam dancing in his face, and he himself sticking a knife into the prick's back. He thought of every possible scenario, starring himself and the parents and judges who attended, all of them fantasies of blood and death.

Sometimes he tried to keep his cool about it. It's not like it mattered _that_ much, right? I mean, he still got second…but no praise, only insults. He was still a good-looking, smart guy…with no friends, no loving parents, and a girlfriend on vacation across the country.

No. The hate fantasies continued, plagued his every thought, lurked under every smile he gave to his peers or teachers. Many times he contemplated bringing a gun to school and shooting McLean to death or near-death, but decided against it; he was not the type to attack someone in such a cowardly and pathetic manner, plus, he could not smuggle a gun into school without getting caught - he was not _that_ invisible in the eyes of his peers.

It scarred him, terribly. He rarely competed, and had a pittance of self-confidence already, so losing to someone who gloated about it every day drove him mad. Living a lonely life with his parents always fighting with each other and ignoring him, having a girlfriend for a week and having her leave him to be with God knows who, and having nothing but his studies to keep him company, the fate of losing his big moment was Earth-shattering. So he winced whenever he was reminded of it, much like the robed man "Zexion" had.

"It means everything to us," spoke the man named Zexion. "Vexen, turn on the bloody light, I can't see a damn thing…"

A click was heard, and a small light bulb hanging from the ceiling by a string turned on, a young man with long, blonde hair and sea-green eyes standing underneath it. Something about the man's face was impressive, almost glowing, and Ryan found himself unable to look a way for a moment, realizing he was intimidated. But, wait…that face was _familiar_. Yes, he knew who this was! It was-

"Vincent!" he cried aloud. "Vincent Redman! Oh, my God…You're the guy who invented the Monger Serum, the one that's trying to make people human shields! You're a scientific _legend_!"

Although he seemed devoid of emotion, Doctor Redman laughed heartily. When he sobered, he said, "Vincent Redman? I have not gone by that name in a while. It's 'Vexen', now, I'm afraid."

"Wha-? What're you _doing_ here? Why am _I_ here? What do you want?" demanded Ryan, now more confused than ever.

"Ryan, relax," said the man in front of him, who removed his hood. Ryan almost recoiled at the first sight of this man. The stranger had long black hair, almost reaching his shoulders, straightened and streaked with premature gray in some strands, which made Ryan think of a royal king from Medieval times. However, unlike those noble kings, this man's face was heavily scarred. Two permanent slashes formed an "X" right in the middle of the man's face. Despite his calm, cool, and collected voice, he looked brutish and even more intimidating than Vincent "Vexen" Redman.

"Yes, my friend, we mean no harm," spoke the kidnapper called Zexion, and Ryan's eyes flickered and his mouth dropped agape in another rush of surprise.

"Sonofabitch," Ryan whispered when he could manage to recover from the shock. "I know you. You're Zeke Fender, you graduated high school when I was ending my sophomore year. You were that really smart, quiet guy that everyone seemed to like. I…I…"

Zeke raised his hand to silence his "hostage". Ryan just stared at him, amazed at this reappearance of an acquaintance that he had never met in his school years. According to teenage gossip, Zeke had been a foreign student from Britain, but had charmed almost all of his classmates into liking him. Zeke was a thin guy, with a head of long, messy hair that was gray all over, either dyed or aged early. This was not the Zeke Ryan remembered; this was "Zexion".

"We just wish to offer you something," spoke the scarred man in a fatherly tone that Ryan had never heard before. "You see, Ryan: like you, we're _all_ unappreciated scientists. All twelve of us, and that's including our leader and the others who're not here. We have a little thing going on here, and we would like you to be apart of it."

Suspicious but listening closely, Ryan asked, "What 'little thing'?"

"A…er…a disease. A Virus. A _god_-Virus. You see, Ryan, we are breeding a weapon of mass destruction to work towards a bigger goal, a goal I cannot go into details about and that you'll have to hear from our leader. However, the essence of it is…we are extending an invitation for you to join our little league of underground scientists and help us create our Virus, which with we can use to destroy _anybody_ who ever dared to cross you…_us_."

"Anyone?" Ryan spoke slowly. His mind was racing furiously. "Anyone I desire?"

"Yes, of course," said the scarred man. "Even the ones who destroyed your paper, the ones who mocked you. With our help, you can punish those who dared to censor your intellect, and in turn, all we expect is one thing."

"Which is?"

"An undying loyalty to our leader," said the man softly. "And a vow to risk your life in hopes of achieving this ultimate goal.

"So, Ryan, the choice is up to you. Do you wish to wreak havoc on those who crossed you, and finally leave an impact on the world? Or would you rather go back to school, being a…a Nobody?"

How long did Ryan think about it? A second? A minute? Hour? He couldn't quite recall, afterwards. All he remembered was a flash of memories whirling in his head, from every bully he had ever encountered, to losing the contest, to watching Adam McLean dance up onto the stage, to hugging Lily goodbye when she went off to Germany, to being in the midst of his parents' constant arguing and neglect. The dark seed of hatred that had been planted in his mind seemed to finally grow into a flower, the Plant of Opportunity.

A grin slowly spread upon his face.

"Where do I sign?"

* * *

The bonds were cut, and Ryan stood up, finally taking a look at his surroundings. He was, like he had initially thought, in a basement. The cellar was made up of stone, with an old wooden staircase leading up to, according to his new associates, an abandoned house they had taken refuge in, also in the town of Queens. There _were_ six of them, the other three lurking in the shadows and discussing things while Zeke, Vincent, and the scarred man spoke with Ryan.

"Might as well introduce ourselves," said the scarred man. "We are the Six Trusted, the higher-ranking officials of this organization, which is now called Organization XIII."

"Thirteen?" said Ryan, puzzled.

"There's thirteen of us," the man explained patiently. "Hence, Organization XIII. Anyways, we all have aliases, new names for a New Order. You may choose yours, but there is only one rule: you must include an 'X' within it. This is in tribute to our leader, Dr. Xehanort, who you'll be meeting soon enough. I am Saix, Second-in-Command of the Organization. You've already 'met' Zexion and Vexen. The other three however…"

The three other cloaked men all came over and removed their hoods simultaneously.

The scarred man, Saix, indicated one of the men who had slicked-back hair and a mobster-like air of supremacy with him. His right eye was covered with an eye patch, yet Ryan could see a series of scars underneath.

"This," said Saix. "Is 'Xigbar'. Formerly apart of the Italian mob in Chicago, as an assassin."

In a raspy voice, Xigbar said, "How're ya' doin'?" as he shook Ryan's hand.

"This is Xaldin, born in Connecticut, raised in Hawaii. Dr. Xehanort's personal bodyguard," Saix told Ryan.

Xaldin was a big, burly man with dark black hair that was tied up into dreadlocks. This man did not say "hello", nor shake Ryan's hand; instead, he gave a grunt and a nod of assent. Ryan felt a lump form in his throat.

"Last, but certainly not least, is Lexaeus."

This last man was almost, but not quite, as big as Xaldin, yet had a short flame of fiery red hair that was spiked with some sort of gel. Lexaeus shook hands with Ryan, smiling politely. Ryan returned the smile, which made his chest feel warm, like someone had been burning a fire inside him.

"Now that we're all acquainted…" muttered Saix, and he walked towards the stone wall underneath the staircase. He lightly touched one of the granite blocks that made up this structure, and it pressed into the wall. The sound of cranking was heard, and part of the wall lifted into a door, much to Ryan's amazement. The other members of the Organization went into the door and disappeared to someplace beyond it. Saix smiled and motioned for Ryan to enter. Slightly paranoid because of having heard stories about group-raping, Ryan reluctantly walked towards the hidden door, and through it.

The door led to a small, dark hallway that was illuminated only by narrow red lights that lined the carpeted walls. Ryan walked through this in a couple of steps to find himself facing a glass door that opened as soon as he approached it. He entered a new, bigger room in a gleam of white light.

"Welcome," said Saix from behind him. "To Oblivion Labs."

The room was rather large, circular, a high dome-shaped ceiling covering them, and the walls and floor were all white. The room was shaped almost like a donut, with a "hole" in the center that was actually a den, where a large-screen TV and many black leather couches stayed. All around the den were two stairs that lead to the main "floor" of the place. Along the walls were doors to various other places. Ryan noticed a couple labeled in red text: "Dinner Hall", "Kitchen", "Bathroom", "Stairwell", and "Lab A". The doors were mechanical, and opened automatically whenever Zexion, Vexen, Lexaeus and Xaldin went into various ones. Only Xigbar was walking towards the black-carpeted den.

"It's…beautiful," croaked Ryan. "I can't believe it."

He turned to Saix, who was beaming.

"Welcome home," Saix said.

Ryan felt tears swim in his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away; he would not leave a weak first impression. However, Saix saw this and put an arm around this newest member, with a fatherly love that said it all: _I've been where you've been, and we're in this together_.

"Come on," said Saix. "Come sit in the den with Xigbar and I. Ah, I see someone else is there, too. We have an Xbox. Do you like Xbox?"

"Y-Yessir," sniffed Ryan.

"So do we. Well, come on. See if you wanna play."

Ryan followed Saix over to the den, and he looked down to see Xigbar lounging next to a young guy, around twenty, who was holding an Xbox controller and dragging on a cigarette. The guy was not in Organization-robes, instead wearing a Guns N'Roses T-shirt. His hair, like Lexaeus', was red, but not naturally; it was clear that it had been dyed.

"The faggot won't let me play," said Xigbar to Saix, who sat down on one of the couches against the perimeter of the den. Ryan sat next to him.

"I'm playing _Halo 3_, Xigbar," said the redheaded smoker. "This is serious shit, and I will not have you interrupt the war against the Covenant because you want to play _Marble Blast Ultra_ like the dork you are. That game is shit."

"I wish to God you would just shut up sometimes, Axel," said Xigbar.

"Love ya', too, buddy."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Isn't that what your mother is for? If not, I want my money back."

"You'll get used to this," said Saix, but Ryan was grinning.

The redhead paused his game, took the cigarette out of his mouth, blew a puff of smoke, and stared at Ryan through the haze.

"This is the new guy?" he asked.

"Yes," said Saix. "This is Ryan. At least, for now. Unless he's considered a name?"

"Well, I thought 'Roxas' was kinda cool," said Ryan, blushing. "I used that name for a lot of internet forums and such. Ironic that it has an 'X', the only requirement."

"Hmm. Yes, I like it," said Saix, smiling. "Well, then. Welcome aboard, Roxas."

The redhead, now playing his game again, gave a quick obnoxious laugh before saying, "'Roxas'? Seriously? I can already tell you're gonna be a pain in my Rox_asshole_."

Sighing, Saix said, "Roxas, this is Axel, one of our spies. He's brilliant at what he does…I only wish he'd take it seriously. That, and sew his mouth shut."

Axel gave a mock laugh, "I take my job _very_ seriously, Saix, I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Last week, instead of interrogating our contact, you went to the Petting Zoo, Axel," said Saix, voice heavy with disdain. "And just today, you were supposed to find test subjects at that hotel across the street from the store we're trying to get information on. I had to send in Marluxia and Demyx with Vexen, instead. Where were you?"

"Here," said Axel simply. "Because I didn't get an order to go."

"I called you and said 'Green light'."

"Yeah, but that could mean _anything_, Saix. Like, you could've been abducted by an alien spaceship with green lights. So, I practiced my alien-fighting skills by playing _Halo_. So, you'll be thanking me if you ever get abducted by aliens-"

"_You know what Green light means, Axel._"

"Uhhhh. I was sick?" said Axel.

"Yeah, bullshit," said Xigbar, chuckling. "Now let me play _Marble Blast_, fire-crotch, or I'll throw you into the television."

"How'll you watch your bestiality porn every night, then, Xigbar?"

Xigbar roared and tackled Axel off the couch. On the floor, the two playfully wrestled each other, while Ryan "Roxas" Hall laughed himself to tears; Saix himself was grinning.

After a moment, the two sat back up on the couch, laughing along with the others. Soon, it died down, and they watched in silence as Axel played his videogame.

A couple minutes later, Axel turned to Roxas and asked him, "You wanna grab something to eat in the kitchen?"

Realizing how hungry he was, Roxas nodded and stood up. He followed Axel up the two steps out of the den, and through the door labeled "Kitchen". Inside here was a kitchen that looked incredibly professional, with many stoves and working tables, not to mention a trio of chrome refrigerators. A small clock was on the wall above the fridges, and Roxas saw with a jolt that it was only midnight; it felt like he had been kidnapped and brought into the Organization weeks ago.

Axel opened one of the chrome fridges and disappeared behind its door. Roxas walked over, hands stuffed in his black jeans, and leaned against a table.

"You drink?" asked Axel.

"Nah, man, never got into that stuff."

"Okay. Is Mountain Dew good?"

"Anything lower on caffeine? I wanna go to sleep in a little bit, if I'm staying overnight…which I hopefully am."

"We have milk." Axel turned and raised his eyebrows at Roxas. "You want some milkie-wilkie?"

_Yes_, came to mind, but Roxas figured it wouldn't look so very macho if he drank "milkie-wilkie" on his first night here.

"I'll take a Mountain Dew, then."

"Alrighty. I'll heat up some pizza. You can go back in and lounge about, I guess."

"Okay. Cool."

He walked back out to the main room to find Xigbar playing his marble game, Saix gone, and in his place a blonde-haired guy in regular clothing, strumming a rather lovely tune on an acoustic guitar.

Roxas came down, looked at this new man, and said, "Hi. What happened to Saix?"

"Bathroom," answered Xigbar, eyes focused entirely on his game. "Roxas, this is Demyx. Demyx, this is our new member, the Chaos theorist, Roxas."

"Pleased to meetcha," mumbled Demyx dreamily; he seemed to be lost in his own music.

"Wait…Demyx?" Roxas asked. "_The_ Demyx? You've got that hit single out, 'She Sells Sea Shells', don't you? _You're_ in the Organization?"

"Yep," he replied, still in that dreamy state.

Roxas looked up at Xigbar, who just shook his head. Roxas chuckled, but it was interrupted by a large yawn.

"Bed," said Saix firmly, who was walking from the door labeled "Bathroom".

"Huh? What?" spluttered Roxas. "No, I can't, Axel's heating up some pizza-"

"No. Bed," repeated Saix. "You have a long day tomorrow. Demyx can take you to your room. _Right_, Demyx?"

"Hu-WHA?" Demyx snapped out of his musical trance, shaking his head rather rapidly, blinking swiftly. "Oh, uh…yeah, okay. Let's go, little guy."

"Oh, shut up," said Roxas, laughing.

Demyx left his guitar on the couch, and the two climbed out of the den and through the "Stairwell" doorway. A large metal staircase went both up and down in this room, zigzagging its way up from floor to floor. On the opposite wall, however, was an elevator, much to Roxas' bemusement. Demyx led him over, pressed the ringing button to go up, and entered the elevator when the two slide doors opened.

When they were both inside and the doors were shut, Roxas blurted out, "How the hell did you _fit_ all this in here?"

Demyx grinned. "Organization XIII, mate. We have no known limitation."

With another ring, the doors opened and Roxas was staring at a colorful, carpeted hallway with doors on either side, that looked much like a hotel's hallway.

"You're Room #13," said Demyx. "All the way down the hall. Have a good sleep."

Roxas exited, and the doors of the elevator shut as Demyx made his way back down to the lounge, and his guitar. Realizing with a jolt that he was just escorted by a famous musician, Roxas walked down the hall with a bit of a swagger, past all the room numbers. None of the doors to the other rooms opened, until he reached twelve. He turned and yelped in shock at the person looking back at him; it was a young, blonde woman, completely naked from the waste-up, and wearing an apron to cover whatever was underneath. Her breasts were pushed together by her arms, covered in scars both new and old, and she studied Roxas with eager green eyes.

"Hey, cutie," she said and giggled.

"Um, hi," croaked Roxas. "You do realize you're…you're…"

"Is 'naked' the word you're looking for? Yes, I am; I'm having a bit of fun with Zexy in here. Or, rather, he's having a bit of fun with _me_."

"Zexy?" Roxas repeated. "You…you mean Zexion?"

"Of course. You're welcome to join in," she said, batting her eyelids.

Blushing furiously, Roxas muttered, "Uh. No thanks. I'll just be heading to my room, then…"

The girl burst out in a cackling laughter, which reminded Roxas very much of a witch.

"I'm only _kidding_, kid," she said between gales of laughter. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Larxene, member XII. Looks like I'll be your neighbor. Don't mind the noise, if I have one of the guys in here, okay? I just like a bit of fun."

"N-no problem," stammered Roxas. "Name's Roxas. Pleased to meet you, Larxene."

"Get a good night's sleep," she said, winking. She closed the door. Moans and groans followed on the other side.

_Jeez_, he thought as he opened his door. _I hope Lily and I _never_ end up like that._

His room was also just like a hotel room. Small, yet cozy, with one big bed with thick sheets and blankets covering it. A bedside table with a lamp lay next to this furniture, and an average-sized television was nicely placed inside an open cabinet. A fresh pair of pajamas were on the bed in a plastic bag, neatly folded. Roxas put them on, then clambered into the warmth of his new bed. He noticed a set of black robes hanging from a hook in his doorless closet.

He slept easily that night, for he was home now.

* * *

**Reviews are welcome.**

**Has a nice day from the both of us. :)**


	3. The Assignment

**Hi, from the both of us. I wrote this chapter and am publishing it on behalf of DeadShut telling me to. We are writing this together, by the by.**

**We love all readers. :)**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Roxas opened his eyes slowly. He blinked a couple times. He groaned, wishing he could go back to sleep. He was having the most fantastic dream. One where six men from an Organization promised him he could get revenge on everyone whoever crossed him. He smiled softly.

"Just a dream…"

He sat up and stretched. He kicked the blankets off and slid to the side of the bed. He scratched his head lightly, not wanting to go to the kitchen and find his mother and father ignoring him for the millionth time.

He stood and exited his room. He was oblivious to the huge mirror that was across from his bed. He ignored his black robes and black boots. He ignored the white walls and beautiful nuances in the architecture. He only stopped when he came to the lavish kitchen. At the table was Axel.

"Shit…"

Axel looked up. "Oh, it's Roxasshole."

Roxas glared at him.

"What's up?"

Roxas shook his head. "It's not a dream."

Axel stood and threw his half eaten bowl of cereal in the sink. "Not shit, Sherlock. You really did sign your life away."

"Where is everyone?"

Axel thought for a moment. "Saix went to a meeting with Bossman, Zexion is compiling a file for you, Demyx is preparing for his tour, and fuck everyone else."

Roxas grinned nervously at Axel's blatancy. He was a little intimidated, but not overly so. He looked down at his pajamas and pulled at them a little. "So, what do I do?"

Axel opened the fridge and drank some orange juice from the carton. "Whatever you want until you're called."

"How will I know they need me?" Roxas asked quickly. "What if I'm out?"

"Oh, that reminds me," Axel said, digging into his pocket. "This is yours." He tossed a slim cell phone at Roxas, who caught it.

"Uh…thanks."

Axel grunted and sat back at the table. Roxas wanted to say something else, but he couldn't think of anything. He swallowed and went back to his room. When he passed Larxene's room, the door slid open.

"Good Morning," Larxene said. She wasn't naked this time. She was wearing her robes, which hugged her tightly.

Roxas blushed. "Good morning."

"Zexy wants to see you." She motioned for him to come in.

Roxas swallowed the forming lump in his throat. When he entered Larxene's room, he saw Zexion sitting at her desk, but there was something else that caught his eye. Many knives, needles, and other sharp objects were lined on a leather pad. He was tempted to pick one up, but he thought better of it.

"Y-Yes?"

Zexion closed the manila envelope. He sighed and scratched his arm. Roxas noticed that it was covered in small pockmarks. Zexion stood up and handed him the file.

"Take this to Saix." He said casually.

"I don't know where he is," Roxas whispered.

"Call him then," Zexion said. And though he was sure he didn't mean it, Roxas thought he was insulting him.

"How do I—"

"For the love of God."

"Calm down, Zexy," Larxene said playfully. "He's new. He's not supposed to know everything. Don't make me punish you…"

Zexion smirked. "Please. Do."

Roxas backed out of Larxene's room quickly as she reached for a needle with lightning speed, and stabbed it into Zexion's arm. He tensed and closed his eyes. He turned around and bumped into a tall figure.

"H-Hi" Roxas stammered. The figure had its hood up. "I'm new here. Uh…"

The figure swooped upon him and covered his mouth. "Scream and I'll kill you." Then, it laughed.

The voice sounded eccentric. Roxas instantly panicked. He struggled against the figure's grip.

"Marluxia!"

Roxas turned. Saix was stalking down the hallway. He looked livid. There was unmistakable anger in his tone and his eyes. He was a totally different person. The figure let him go. Roxas stumbled away and dropped his file. The papers flew everywhere and Roxas scrambled to pick them up.

Axel was there instantly. His fists were balled, and he grabbed the figure, Marluxia, by his collar. He ripped his hood down, revealing a wavy mess of bright pink hair. Marluxia smiled, showing his teeth awkwardly.

"Go ahead," he giggled. "Do it. I-I dare you…"

Axel reached back to punch him, but Saix stopped him. "Marluxia. You and I need to talk."

Marluxia smiled arrogantly, and slid past Axel, dripping with swagger. "Nice try."

"I'll fuck you up."

Marluxia grinned at Axel's threat. "Give it your best shot, Guido. I'll wait." He giggled again.

"Marluxia!" Saix called. "Now."

Roxas instantly didn't like Marluxia. He shuddered at the way he walked, and his voice reminded him of a killer. He sounded like a murderous heathen. He briefly forgot that he had to give Saix his file, but upon remembering, he dashed down the hallway.

"Saix!"

Saix turned around. He took the folder from him without a word. Marluxia looked at him again.

"I look forward to working with you…_Roxas_."

The way he said Roxas made him dislike his new title. Roxas grimaced and turned away as bravely as he could. He hoped that Marluxia took it as a snub, because he honestly scared the shit out him. When he passed Axel, Axel put his arm around his shoulder.

"Don't worry," he said lazily. "They say he doesn't bite. I have to disagree though."

Roxas muttered a short agreement. Axel left him to his room. He stood in the doorway, thinking. His black robe hung on the hook; same as it had been the night before. He picked it up and played with it. It wasn't too heavy, but he could feel the amount of pocket space as he felt the fabric.

"I'm…home."

Those words felt so real to him. His parent no longer mattered. School, work, friends. They didn't matter. He had a real family, and they all appreciated his contribution to the world. He sighed and placed his robe on the hook. He looked around at his room a little more carefully. He noticed there was a frame on the other side. He walked up to it, reading the text carefully.

_Ryan "Roxas" Hall. Member number XIII. Author of The Chaos Theory: A Study of Anarchy and the Butterfly Effect. Role in Organization: Chaos Theorist_

Roxas smiled.

A soft knock at his door alerted him. "Come in," He said a little louder than he meant to. Larxene cracked the door open.

"You're wanted." She said. "Shower and go to the den. It's important."

Roxas nodded, showered and dressed. He felt a new kind of confidence rise in him as he slipped the black robe on. The leather was soft, and it hung on his body a little loosely. He looked at himself in his mirror. He styled his hair and left.

In the den, Xigbar was sitting on the couch, talking to Demyx, who was wistfully playing his guitar. Neither one looked up when Roxas entered.

"So, I'm needed?" Roxas said after clearing his throat.

Saix stood up. He looked different, like he had been in a fight, though there was no physical damage done. He just looked ruffled. He was frowning; the change in his demeanor was evident. Roxas was sure that it was Marluxia's fault.

"We have a quick assignment for you," Saix said. He was carrying a black folder. "It's espionage, so Axel will be going with you."

"Yay…" Axel replied lazily.

Saix ignored Axel's slight. "We are in the process of preparing a…presentation for the Senate. Zexion and Vexen will be delivering it. You need to do some surveillance. We need to have enough information about who's in charge, just in case we have to go through less than desirable methods."

Roxas kept calm on the outside, though his insides leapt for joy. His first day and he was getting a mission. He was so excited. With Axel? Made it less exciting.

"Axel, teach him the ropes." Saix continued. "And above all. Don't. Be. Seen."

Axel yawned. "Whatever. Where are we going?"

"Metro."

Axel stood. "Oh, art. How am I not surprised? Come on."

"You are two foreigners on vacation."

Axel nodded and dragged Roxas into his room. He pushed him on the bed and walked into his closet. He threw a number of different garments out. Hats, shirts, pants.

"Pick something smart looking," Axel said. We don't want to stick out."

Roxas picked up a couple of shirts and a pair of pants. "What about this?"

Axel shrugged and took the clothes. He stripped down. Roxas turned away.

"What the fuck, Roxas?" Axel said. "We're both dudes. Loosen up."

Roxas frowned. He didn't like Axel picking on him, but it was a thousand times better than Adam McLean's taunting. He took his robe off, disappointed.

"I guess this means I don't need this."

Axel shook his head. "I don't know why you're so eager to wear that. You don't even have a single idea how deep this goes. Yet, you're so loyal already."

Roxas didn't respond. Of course he was going to be loyal. He had been offered a place in this world, and a family that cared for him. The least he could do was give them what they wanted. Undying loyalty? No problem.

Axel left hurriedly. Roxas followed him, wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked in Axel's mirror.

"I look foreign." He said matter-of-factly.

He went to the kitchen. Zexion was sitting at the table. Axel was sitting across from him. He had a beer in his hand.

"It's ten in the fucking morning, Axel," Zexion said, slightly peeved. "Why are you drinking?"

"I'm going to spy on a bunch of Senators." Axel responded. "I need this."

Roxas opened the fridge tentatively. He still didn't feel as if he were wholly welcomed. He rooted around for a little bit and pulled out some grapes. He washed them off and ate them quickly. Axel had finished his early morning alcohol, and was at the door.

Saix walked Roxas out. "Pay attention to everything. I want a full report. And, I want you to make sure that this…" He held up a small package. "Gets into a Senator's pocket. It' will be crowded, so it shouldn't be too difficult. Don't be—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Axel said quickly. "Don't be seen, and make sure you're foreign and blah blah blah. We get it."

"Don't fuck this up," Saix warned.

Axel smiled in his face, "You got it." And he slammed the door.

* * *

Sora was still curled on the dusty floor of the computer shop. He had spent the whole night crying. He missed his parents and wished he had stayed at the hotel room so he could have stopped the monster that was Marluxia. He trembled. It was rather cold in the store, and he couldn't pull himself together. He was beginning to resent New York.

He sighed softly. He heard Riku stir. He lifted his head up and looked around. The windows were covered in newspaper, but still, little shafts of sunlight broke through. He stood up and stretched. He was sore from sleeping on such an uncomfortable surface. He yawned, and a croak escaped from him. Remnants of his never ending tears.

Riku sat up. "So, now it begins, I guess."

Sora nodded absently. "I just want my parents back."

"Well, it's going to take time," Riku said. "We need to first get a little information about what happened exactly."

Riku stood and nudged Kairi with his foot. She woke and yawned. "Where are we off to?"

"Breakfast." Riku said. "Sora, you're going to have to pick up on a whole new set of skills if you're going to survive. I don't expect you to get it right the first time, but you fuck up, and you're good as dead."

Sora nodded. Riku made him nervous.

"Stop scaring him." Kairi whispered.

Riku ignored her, "First pick something out as a weapon. Nobody uses this shop. So, feel free to break stuff."

Sora swallowed the dryness in his throat. He looked around at the computer parts. "I'm not…"

There was loud crashing from outside. Riku rushed to the back door, moving his hair out of the way and pressing his ear to the glass. He heard yelling, and lots of cursing. That meant there was danger.

"Hurry," He hissed.

Sora frantically looked for something. Then, he remembered the Keyblade. He looked at the counter and the velvet pillow was empty. He thought that Riku had taken it, but was relieved to see it was on the floor. He picked it up. He looked it over once.

There was a button that he had missed when he looked at it last time. He pushed it, and dropped the Keyblade. He sucked on his thumb and winced. He looked at it and was shocked to see a pinpoint size puncture. It was bleeding, but that wasn't what hurt. A burning sensation ran up his arm. He shook his arm wildly to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling. It subsided, but he didn't have enough time to think about it.

Riku had pulled him out into the back alleyway. "Prepare to fight."

Sora held up the Keyblade. It was short, not much of a weapon, but he had figured with a name like Keyblade, it was bound to do something spectacular. He pushed the button again, expecting the burning sensation to flare up. When it didn't, he braced himself for the hardest fight of his life.

His first one.

There were only two others in the alley. They were huge. Both of them. They were beaten from the constant battle for territory on the streets of New York.

Riku scoffed, remaining tough. "You sure start early. What? Don't you have some whores to diddle?"

The two thugs looked at each other and laughed. "Your in the wrong area, Suburb."

Riku smiled. "Fuck you, too."

The thugs chuckled heartily. They glared at Riku. Their guffawing echoed off the brick walls. Riku soften and laughed, too. He pushed Sora. "Guys, this is Sora."

Sora trembled. He thought that he was in actual danger, but Riku was only messing with him. He flushed; embarrassed that he had taken the situation so seriously. Riku tackled the two thugs and fought them. They stopped after a minute.

"Sora," Riku said, still laughing. "These are my friends. Donald and Gerald. Don and Goofy."

Sora kept his guard up, but approached them.

"Well, at least he stays on his toes," Don said. "It's nice to meet you." He had a thick accent that made it hard to understand him.

Goofy extended a hand. Sora copied him, and had his hand crushed in a firm handshake. "Welcome to the streets, kiddo."

Sora didn't respond. He merely nodded. Kairi came out of the store. She looked frantic.

"I got the TV working." She said. "Come see what's on."

Riku and Sora ran inside. Don and Goofy followed, conversing with each other. Sora sat in front of the screen. It was fuzzy, but he could still hear the reporter.

"_In another surprising attack, twenty people were killed in what appeared to be a drug related mass murder. The Chief of Police says that the Heartless gang is responsible for the gruesome bloodshed, and that they have become much more brave. He advises all citizens of New York to watch out for any suspicious activity. He also wishes to put out an alert for a Sora O'Reiley. He was apparently at the scene of the crime but disappeared during the events. Anybody who has tips regarding the whereabouts of Sora O'Reily or any information leading to the capture of the one responsible for this grisly scene can call…"_

Sora coughed, trying to disguise his sadness. Riku crossed his arms. He looked angry, but he managed to put on a calm exterior. "It's time to go."

Kairi nodded and grabbed a light pink backpack. It matched her outfit, which was short. She brushed her hair behind her ear and left the store.

"Where is she…?" Sora started, but Riku cut him off.

Kairi came back shortly after leaving. She smiled. "Clear."

Riku nodded. He pushed Sora out of the store. He looked back at Don and Goofy, muttered something softly and closed the door. Sora stood on the sidewalk, squinting in the bright sun. He looked across the street. The yellow police tape was still fluttering in the breeze, but everything looked normal. Like twenty people did not just lose their life last night.

Riku nudged him and started down the street. "We gotta go to the diner. I'm meeting someone there. They should be able to help us."

Sora tried to smile, but just couldn't. He hung his head. "Yeah, sure."

Kairi lightly punched him. "Cheer up, you never know. Maybe Riku's friend knows where your parents are. Or at least knows someone who does. You give up hope too easily."

Sora smiled half-heartedly. "I'm trying."

"I know."

"Stop talking, you two," Riku said. "You look suspicious."

"Sorry."

Riku shook his head. "Don't worry, kid. I know what I'm doing."

* * *

**Ta da. Too lazy to write anything more. DeadShut will be writing the next chapter.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	4. Mental Stigmata

**Hello, all. DeadShut here, with another chapter in this tragic tale. There are some fun facts about this chapter, too! Yay!**

**-This is my first time writing a chapter with Sora in it! Huzzah!**

**-Susie's Diner does not exist in real life, but the restaurant "Luxia" does. **

**-Although I am not racist against Italian, I will admit that I AM against the modern-day interpretation of "Guidos". Fuck those idiots. **

**Just as a reminder, to those of you just tuning in, or perhaps those of you who are confused as to what the holy fuck is going on: this is a REALISTIC PORTRAYAL of the Kingdom Hearts series. That is all. **

**Hey-di-ho! Haji here with chapter four! Yay! Lovely DeadShut wrote this, and I will be working on the next chapter. I promise it will be epic. Also, it has come to my attention that we may be covering subjects that some may find...offensive. Please, feel free to flame us. We want you to. ;)**

**Other than that, we own nothing, though Kingdom Hearts is the shit. (Like Halo)**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Susie's Diner was a small little place, apparently well-liked by locals for its delicious coffee, which the cook sprinkled a tad bit of cocoa into, giving it a sweet taste and the air inside the little shop a sweet odor. As Sora sat in a red booth by the window, watching people pass by to do whatever business in this humongous city, he would inhale deeply from time to time, enjoying the lovely fragments of whatever was being cooked…especially the chocolate coffee.

Sora had never been to a city as large as this one before, ever. It was only because of his father's promotion within the lawn mower manufacturing business that they had even come…now that they could afford to. The sight of so many people on one island, at times, baffled him. Each person, each faceless stranger, had a family, and goals, and phobias, and favorite songs, just like he did. And not a single one of those combinations were the same. Eight million _different_ people, all walking about and filling their role in this gargantuan entity that was New York City. And amongst those eight million people were the men or women who had taken his parents.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when the smell of chocolate and coffee was covered by a flowery fragment that he recognized as perfume. Sora turned and saw Kairi sitting down beside him in the booth, and for some odd reason, felt a hot blush creep up his face. Why was this? He hadn't a clue, but he stared at her for a long time, noticing her freckled face, the lively blue eyes as mysterious as the ocean, the way her red hair ran down her head so smoothly.

_Am I a poet?_

Riku sat on the opposite side of them, having come back from the bathroom. Don and "Goofy" were sitting on chairs at the free side of the table. A waitress came and took their orders. Sora, realizing that he hadn't eaten since before the kidnapping, ordered some waffles, a side of bacon, some white toast, and a mug of the chocolate coffee that this place was known for. They sat in silence for a bit, then their food came back and they dug in greedily.

"So when is this guy coming, Riku?" asked Sora through a mouthful of jellied toast. He swallowed hard when it occurred to him that Kairi might find that unattractive.

_Gotta love hormones_, he thought bitterly, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

However, Riku did the same through a mouthful of eggs.

"He'll be here any minute. Just enjoy your breakfast, man. _Fuck_, this coffee is good."

When Sora was halfway done with his waffles, he looked up to see a tall man walk through the glass entrance doors. He was bald, no facial hair either. The man was wearing a dark green suit with a white tie, and looked very official. His dark brown eyes studied every corner of Susie's, before resting upon Sora's table. He grinned, showing pearly white teeth, and strolled over confidently.

"Ahhh, good to see you all!" he said in a soft voice. "I saw the news last night. Tragic. God bless those poor people inside the hotel. You did take care of it, hopefully?"

"Not quite," said Riku. "These Heartless weren't like others. They were wearing these black robes, and- Oh, shit, where are my manners? Mick, this is Sora O'Reily. No, not O'Reilly; I don't think we need ol' Bill's conservative and hairy asshole in our exploits against the Heartless. Anyways, Sora's parents were taken by these guys last night. He's promised to go along with us in our fight against the Heartless if it means getting his parents back, in any way, shape or form. So you can trust him."

The man shook Sora's hand. "I'm terribly sorry, son. However, you can be assured that I'm doing what I can to stop these things from happening. My name is Michael Mouse, although most friends call me 'Mickey' or 'Mick'. Although it is illegal for a Senator such as myself to do such things, I am in control of the anti-Heartless movement. Riku and Kairi here are my agents. Don and Goofy are my bodyguards. And, if you're dedicated to doing this, you are now my agent as well."

"I am dedicated, sir," said Sora firmly.

"Good. Then, you can start your dedication by giving me information on the appearance of your kidnappers." Senator Mouse pulled a small notebook from his breast pocket, and clicked a pen. He looked at Sora expectedly.

Immediately, the recollection of the man with pink hair and scythe that had burned into Sora's brain almost blurred his vision.

"One man," he said. "Had pink hair. Carried a scythe around. His teammate, who I couldn't see 'cause of the hood, called him 'Marluxia'."

Mouse dropped his pen, and his mouth opened into a gape.

"Pink hair?" he asked, eyes wide. "Carried a _scythe_?"

"Y-yes."

"Jesus-fuckin' Almighty," Senator Mouse whispered. He turned to Riku, who also looked fearful.

"Marla Shift," hissed Riku grimly.

All others at the table, with the exception of Sora, looked aghast.

"Sorry," said Sora. "But who is 'Marla Shift'?"

Mouse cleared his throat before explaining, "Marla Shift is one of New York's most dangerous serial killers. Shift grew up with his psychotic father who wanted a daughter, and named his son a feminine name out of hopes that would make Fate or God or whatever turn his son into a woman. When that didn't work, the crazed man chopped his son's genitalia off when the boy was just three years-old."

Sora felt his breakfast churn revoltingly in his stomach.

"The father was arrested, and, mentally scarred by this traumatic event, Marla Shift went to an orphanage, where he was constantly mocked by other students for acting feminine and having an interest in flowers, which he would frequently string from his hair. Now, at the age of twelve, most boys start experimenting with masturbation. Marla, at age twelve, experimented as well, by tying up and sodomizing many other orphans, both male and female.

"None of the orphans told their superiors, out of fear and confusion. Eventually, Marla was adopted by a man named Chris Hart, who lived in Hell's Kitchen, where Marla spent the remainder of his life, being tormented by the gangsters there and his new father, who turned out to be a child molester. While growing up in a dysfunctional lifestyle, Marla found solace in one place: Luxia, a seafood restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. Luxia is still opened today, and still has what attracted Marla: a garden-like interior. Marla made friends with the gardener of Luxia, and his interest in all things floral began to grow.

"At the age of nineteen, without a proper education and still living with his adoptive father, Marla was able to successfully plant thick vines, which he then used to strangle Chris Hart. Marla went on the run, and realized that he got an excitement out of killing people, innocent or not. Soon, many murders occurred throughout a five-year span, the bodies all being shells to a couple of plants that someone had grown inside of them.

"I've no clue how Marla eventually came into possession of an actual scythe, but he began to slowly chop his victims into pieces with it, then "planting" their destroyed bodies in Central Park. He was finally arrested just a year ago, when he executed a businessman by pushing him off a building with a vine around his neck. Officers were able to get to him before his escape, and he was sent to prison, where he was yet again tormented, this time by fellow prisoners."

Sora's throat had locked up. He hadn't felt so repulsed in his life, and wanted desperately to take a shower, as if the story of this deranged killer's origins had forever dirtied him. He took a sip of coffee, hoping the warmth would soothe him; it did not. Kairi placed a hand on his shoulder sadly, yet he felt his heart helplessly leap with pleasure. It was not long-lasting, however, and soon he was back to a repulsed state-of-mind.

When he could finally speak, he said, "This man, Marla, seemed to be homosexual. We could check some homosexual clubs, see if he's there."

The Senator shook his head. "Marla Shift is not a homosexual. In fact, I don't think he _has_ any sort of sexual attraction. He is a monster, raised by monsters. He does not feel, unless he is killing someone or planting a pretty flower. And it makes sense how he would want to be called 'Marluxia' by his co-workers.

"Although I know you want to focus on this man, your enemy, I need to know all the information you can give me. Were there any others with 'Marluxia'?"

"T-two others," said Sora. He felt tears burning on the bridge of his nose, ready to erupt from his eyes. "One was the hooded guy that I did not see. The other was…well, no…it _couldn't_ be…"

"Who?" asked Senator Mouse and Riku simultaneously.

"It…it looked like Demyx. You know, the musician? A little underrated, but he's one of my favorite singers and guitarists, so I know what he looks like, and at the time it seemed like a dream. But now I'm thinking it _was_ him. It looked just like him."

* * *

Whenever Demyx was off-duty, he liked to take a trip down to Seaside Heights, New Jersey, to be with what he loved most: the ocean. The largest body of water on the planet. It brought out his musical side whenever he walked up that wooden ramp, up onto the boardwalk, and looked out into the endless blue sea that crashed down upon the sandy beaches in beautiful curves that no woman could ever match. And it only took about two hours to drive, which he liked doing. Every day, a new adventure. Why else would he join a terrorist group hellbent on a global genocide?

Instead of the Organization robes, which would certainly cause attention and kill him with heat, Demyx was wearing a T-shirt and bathing suit. Nobody on the boardwalk really recognized him as _the_ Demyx, and he was once again reminded at how low his CDs had been selling, and how little he had of a fanbase. Whatever. As long as he could make music and not be bothered during his alone time, it was all good.

Lately, the boardwalk had been plagued with some ridiculous fucking show produced by MTV, the everfucking _Jersey Shore_. Shirts about "Guidos" and "Situations" and whatnot covered every other store. It was things like _Jersey Shore_ that made Demyx feel that the world was better off dead, or at least infected with the Virus.

He didn't mind coming here alone. In fact, he preferred it. Other people would just ruin his time. However, as much as he would _like_ to be here alone, he was not. Thankfully, the person he was here with (who he saw just up ahead but pretended not to notice) was someone who appreciated the sea almost as much as he did, just in another perspective: Zexion Fender.

Yes, Demyx knew of Zexion's admiration for all things nautical, but he didn't like it for the same reason. Demyx loved the ocean because he was a hydromaniac; Zexion loved the ocean because he saw it as humanity's one last mystery, something he wanted to explore: only ten percent of the ocean floor has ever been mapped. Demyx sort of disliked this strange perspective, of Zexion's eagerness to be the world's next biggest pioneer, for he only saw beauty in the surface of the saltwater, and the beatific way in which it moved. Zexion had no feeling other than ambition.

And here Zexion was now, wearing a T-Shirt and bathing suit as well instead of the usual Organization robes he took pride in wearing. With him was Larxene, glorious-shaped body covered in scratches and scars, her long blonde hair let loose and wild, her eyes gleaming with playful ferocity. From time to time, those eyes would quickly shoot to Zexion's face, and a hot blush would creep on the sadist. Demyx began to wonder if she _really_ wore such a skimpy bikini solely to show off her scars.

"Demyx," said Zexion, giving a small grin. "Good to see you, my friend."

Demyx returned the smile and said, "Back atcha. How's it goin', man? Was the drive here okay?"

"Was fine enough. I rarely enjoy days off like these anymore. I'm usually cooped up inside the lab."

"How's the Virus coming along?"

They began to walk down the boardwalk. Larxene took Zexion's hand into her own. Zexion scowled for a brief instant, and although Larxene was oblivious to the way he looked at that moment, Demyx could see it clear as day.

"There are still some errors that need to be sorted out," explained Zexion, voice suddenly harder and lined with gravity. "But I do believe it will, after maybe a couple analyses from Member I, be bred well enough to experiment."

"Well, that's cool."

"Indeed, it is."

"_Oooh_," moaned Larxene suddenly. "Zexy, can we do the cranes? I wanna do the cranes."

She pulled him towards an open-door arcade, and Demyx saw Zexion's eyes roll as he passed by. The musician stared after the couple, amused. Larxene was not a regular girl, he knew, and would normally _never_ want her "boyfriend" to get her a stuffed animal from a fucking crane game. However, no matter how much she was _not_ normal, she clearly so _wanted _to be. She and Zexion had only been dating for, what? A couple weeks, if that? Perhaps it was her way of escaping her life as a terrorist-scientist, and be like everyone else. And, although Zexion either lacked the ability to feel for anyone but himself, or simply _chose_ to not feel for anybody but himself, Demyx did believe that Larxene loved him. And, Demyx believed, if she had met Zexion more than two years ago, he probably would have actually loved her back.

Demyx had never really heard the whole story of Zexion's life before joining the Organization, but got the gist of it; Zeke Fender was an outstanding student with an interest in various fields, yet graduated high school with poor grades due to underachievement. Fender wanted nothing to do with school, either because he felt like it wasn't challenging enough, or because he was such a narcissist to the point where he truly felt he was better than his peers, and was utterly revolted at the idea of sitting next to them everyday. However, although he may have had disgust for most of his classmates, he apparently fell for a girl, and fell hard. To the point of stalking her, even. Of course, she eventually lashed out on him, and then a specific event happened that Zexion only referred to as "the turning point in which she humiliated me". Since "the turning point", Zeke spent the remainder of his school days depressed, and as soon as he graduated, decided to use his intellect for a life of anarchy by joining the Heartless. This, like public school, did Zexion no wonders, for he felt it was his planning and operations that had given the Heartless such a big name. Eventually, he detached from the Internet terrorists, and did solo acts around his hometown. Eventually, he was found by Member I, the Leader of Organization XIII, the Head Honcho. Whatever the Big Guy said to Zeke sparked inspiration in the young academic, and the boy named Zeke Fender was destroyed; in his place was "Zexion".

Demyx was startled out of his thoughts when he realized a girl in an even skimpier bikini than Larxene's was walking over to him. A short girl, long black hair, hell of an ass, nothing left for the imagination up front. Every curve bounced as she walked, and now it was Demyx's turn to blush.

"Hey, sexy," she said, winking. Demyx half-grinned, a little taken-aback, and looked up to see the girl's trashy friends all watching her and giggling. "You wanna come hang with us? Ditch the nerd and the ugly bitch in the arcade?" She said this through an obnoxious chewing of sugary gum which accompanied her warm breath that landed on Demyx's face.

"Away with you, whore," Demyx muttered. He felt rather embarrassed, now.

She guffawed and mocked him, "'Away with you'? _Ha_! What're you, Harry Potter? I just wanted to suck you off. Unless you like men?"

"I-er-stop. Just stop. Leave me alone, now."

Now she shrieked with laughter, and said, "He _is_ gay! You were right, Stacey! So do you like big dick?"

"No, I-I'm not gay. What the fuck are you-?"

"_Yo_, Lizzy!" spoke a deep voice. Demyx looked up from the little skank and saw a large, muscular young man with spiked-back hair and sunglasses, a pout on his face that no infant could match. His rather large arms were raised in a humongous shrug as he walked over to where Demyx and the girl were standing in front of the arcade.

Incredibly, the man did not move towards the girl, but towards Demyx, and gave him a shove that nearly took him off his feet. Shocked, Demyx collected himself and witnessed the girl wrapping her arms around this guy's waist with a look of pure mockery.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" asked Demyx furiously.

The man spoke like a modern-day caveman.

"I been seein' you talkin' to ma'gurl, son. The fuck you trahn' ta pull?"

"I'm not 'trahn'' anything, shitheels," replied Demyx coldly. "Your little whore came up to _me_."

"Oh, fuck you, man!"

Another shove. Demyx barely caught himself, yet again, only to get knocked down an instant later by the man's large, muscular fist which introduced itself to Demyx's face. The musician landed on the floor of the boardwalk, mouth bleeding, entire face throbbing. He felt another white hot pain enter his back as this simplistic-minded Guido kicked him in the back.

The man would've had another shot, if Zexion didn't come that very second and punch the man square in the face.

The man toppled back, shocked, but instantly recovered; Zexion was not strong. He was an intellect, not a fighter, and his punch would've only been force, if not mildly painful.

"Who the fuck are you?" asked the man obnoxiously, dangerously cracking his knuckles.

"Doesn't matter. Leave him be," said Zexion coolly.

"No, fuck that! He's been messin' 'round with ma'gurl!"

"No, he has not, you asinine bag of worthless pus."

Although it hurt to do so, Demyx smiled as he picked himself up. The Z-bomb had been dropped.

"Assy-_what_?" asked the man, glaring. A circle had formed around Zexion and this stranger, whose girlfriend had rejoined her friends and was looking ecstatic. Larxene came from the crowd and helped Demyx up, and Demyx saw a fierce look of passionate triumph and malicious pleasure in her wide, perfect smile.

Zexion laughed heartily before saying rather coldly, "I don't expect you to know what that means, imbecile. In fact, I don't expect you to know _anything_. You're nothing but a lowly insect beneath our feet. You contribute nothing to this society, worrying only about self-pleasure and your cesspool of sexually-transmitted diseases that you like to call your girlfriend. I would ask you to change your act, but you're too engulfed in an ocean of stupidity whilst posing on an ocean you know next to nothing about. I have half a mind to hang you by your neck from a God-damned rooftop. Never, _ever_, lay a finger on my friend again."

Silence was greeted by this, for various reasons. Demyx knew the man was silent because of either shock or lack of comprehension, yet Demyx himself was silent because it had been the first time Zexion had ever referred to anyone as a friend.

Finally, the assailant spoke.

"Wh-…_I'll kick your fucking ass, you sonofabitch!_"

He ran forward.

Zexion turned to face his two associates, his two friends, and winked at Larxene. Larxene laughed with malicious glee, as Zexion began to run down the boardwalk, the assailant running after him, the crowd running after _them_.

"What the fuck is he _doing_?" asked Demyx, bemused.

Larxene said, laughing hysterically, "He's taking him to somewhere isolated…oh, and the guy's girlfriend, too, since she is running after them screaming, now. See, Zexy needs more test subjects. The Guido would've been okay by himself, but a whole crowd of people will be like a goldmine for my Zexy…but he'll need our help in collecting them."

"Alrighty. We should follow."

"Yes, we should."

They followed.

* * *

Zexion ran, the man chasing after him. He was never much of a runner; in fact, he rarely participated in sports at all. However, to where he was going was not far; right on the beach.

Seaside Heights consists of one main boardwalk and another segment that "branches" off of it, out into the shallows of the ocean. This branch was supported by a group of pillars that went into the sand and, eventually, into the ocean. Since the majority of this branch consists of rides that weigh tons when put together, the architecture underneath the dock was tightly packed together, making it a bit of a maze of wooden pillars. That was Zexion's goal: under the dock.

The Guido was fucking fast, no doubt about that, but his massive weight was slightly slowing him down, giving Zexion the advantage.

Zexion found a ramp leading off the boardwalk. He leaped off of it, ignoring the protests of the lifeguards and boardwalk employees about how he had to pay. The Guido pushed right past them, hellbent on destroying the intellect who dared to insult him. Although Zexion did not know it, the man was in the possession of a sharp, silver pocket-knife, which he intended to gut his adversary with once he got a hold of him.

The sand was hot from the merciless sun, and although Zexion had shoes to block his heels, many puffs of sand filled his shoes from the sides. He turned and saw a flash of silver as the man swung the knife as hard as he could; it missed by barely an inch. Slightly panicked by the thought of being killed by a Guido on a beach, Zexion closed his eyes and sprint faster than he ever had previously in his life. Tufts of sand flew from behind him, smacking the adversary in the face. The Guido was relentless, however, and ignored the burning sand in his eyes, still fully focused on stabbing this skinny punk who had _dared_ to insult him on _his_ beach to death.

Finally, with one last burst of energy, Zexion made it into the cool shade underneath the boardwalk. Swiftly, he ran through a couple of gaps between the pillars, wincing when the freezing cold foam of the salty waves covered his ankle and lightly tugged at him, like a lover tugs his woman back into bed. Across one "hallway" of pillars, he could see the other side of the beach. Running back out in the open would not work, so he stuck to the plan and quietly snuck behind a wooden pillar, watching the "hallway" through which he had entered through.

In came his opponent, and Zexion saw for the first time that the man was armed. The man had no idea where Zexion had gone to, much to the latter's immense delight.

Something cold and hard hit Zexion from behind, a large wave that had amazingly seemed to sneak up on him. He grit his teeth, hoping to stay quiet, as he looked past the pillar and at the man, who was looking around at all gaps between the pillars, clearly confused.

_Now is the time to strike_, thought Zexion, and he moved silently forward.

In came two more men, both dressed and accessorized almost exactly like the first man. They exchanged a couple words in their strange lingo, before they all started looking around for the would-be-dead intellect. It wasn't until Zexion saw another, more comforting movement slip into the shade of the boardwalk that he revealed himself to the buffoons.

"Looking for someone?" he asked loudly. All three turned with a jolt.

The First Man grinned in pleasure.

"Ready to get yo' pale ass gutted?" said the man. He moved forward with the knife while his friends jeered behind him.

Then, something stopped him. His eyes widened in horror, his mouth dropped into a gape, and he dropped his weapon onto the sandy ground, where it was swept up by the following wave that came underneath the boardwalk.

The Guido toppled forward and fell, face-first, into the wet sand. The hilt of a knife protruded from his back like a grotesque spike. His two friends stared at the body in horror, one on the right of him, the other on the left. The one on the right was so aghast, that he did not notice when his friend's killer came up from behind him. He _did _notice, however, when she slit his throat and left him choking on his own blood, twitching in the sand. The last thuggish bastard turned and uttered a terrified scream before Larxene punctured him twice in the lower neck region, then once in the chest. The last man fell to the ground with his friends, joining them in death.

"Piece a'cake," said the sadist gleefully, and she skipped over to Zexion, whose mouth was also opened in a gape.

"That was," he whispered. "Very impressive."

She looked up at him and kissed him. It was a very odd process for Zexion, who had the tendency to observe every little element in every little sensation. He had never been kissed on the lips before, and found it interesting how perfectly their lips fit together, and the pressure of every other part of their face just seemed to amplify the softness of their mouths. For the first time in his life, he genuinely smiled at his girlfriend, and she smiled back.

Demyx emerged from behind one of the pillars, scowling at Larxene's victims.

"What do we do with them?" asked the musician.

"Just leave them," commanded Zexion, arm around Larxene's shoulder. Larxene was blushing something awful. "We can't do anything about them just yet. I'll call Xigbar later, he can come out and get the bodies while we stay overnight, then bring them back to the labs."

"Will the Virus work on a dead body?"

"Of course it will."

"Oh. Alrighty then…"

They left the bodies underneath the boardwalk, and left Seaside Heights to pursue other boardwalks, not risking being seen by any witnesses in the crowd that had formed around the initial fight. As they toured an aquarium in Point Pleasant, Zexion called for Xigbar, who drove out and took the bodies, then came and had a couple drinks with them at a local tavern. They sat at a booth, each with a bottle of beer, in the noisiest bar in town; the nosiest bar meant they would not be overheard.

"What news of the boy?" Zexion asked Xigbar.

"Dunno," said the assassin. "He went on some reconnaissance mission with Axel. _Axel_. God help the poor kid…"

"_He_ went on recon?" said Demyx, incredulous. "On his first day? Jeezum-crow. The Big Guy must really trust him."

"I like him, to be quite frank," said Xigbar. "And so does Saix. Sees him almost like a son. I guess I sorta do, too. He's awfully damn young, but he's a nice kid."

Zexion scoffed. Everyone turned to him, including Xigbar, eyebrows raised.

"A nice kid," said Zexion, his voice thick with cynicism. "A nice kid can be easily persuaded. What if he's not what we think he is? He seems rather out there. As in, not like the rest of us."

"He's hurt, _Zeke_," spat Xigbar. "Just like the rest of us. You, of all people, should understand."

Instead of getting angry, Zexion just looked out the window a small smile playing on his lips, a mental stigmata crucifying him to the past. His mind was instantly in another place, far away from this small bar on the shore, to a high school football field where he had just told a hilarious joke, where the girl he loved most was laughing, her long red hair so smooth and shiny in the glorious sunlight, her freckled face and lively eyes that made his heart quake, the girl with such a beautiful name that rolled off the tongue, and that name was…

* * *

"Kairi," Sora whispered as they made their way out of Susie's Diner. Senator Mouse was escorting the five of them out into the streets, waving for a taxi. "Where the heck is this guy taking us?"

He didn't know _why_ he had asked such a useless question, other than to simply talk to her. Riku was the leader, along with Mickey, Don and "Goofy" never even talked, and Kairi was the only one who had ever offered any sort of legitimate kindness to Sora in this entire hellish adventure that had started just last night. That, plus he thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

"We're going to Mickey's house," she whispered back to him. "He's just flagging down a taxi for us. Soon, we're gonna have to leave the city."

"Where are we going?"

"Washington D.C."

Sora nodded, and although he watched Mickey wave down a taxi, his mind was yet again brought back to Kairi. Once and a while, he would give a furtive glance her way, just to see what she was doing, or what she was looking at.

And suddenly he was aware he didn't want to go on this trip _just_ to save his family.

* * *

**And that's one mega great chapter from DeadShut. Oh, he deserves a round of applause. *claps***

**We wish you the best of the rest of your day. Has a nice one. :)**

**NOTE: I made minor adjustments to the content, just changing the number of people in New York from three to eight. And other minor errors. Microsoft word for life. Just thought I'd mention it. It seems like an important note.**

**Next chapter will be up in a couple of days, I'm sure.**


	5. Broken Recon

**Hello, from both of us. We hope you are enjoying our little story so far.**

***Insert disclaimer here***

**DeadShut gave me a compliment today. *feels special* We really are a great team. :)**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Marluxia, being the sick, twisted bastard that he was, frequently loitered outside the restaurant of his childhood. Luxia, the seafood place with the garden interior. Marluxia was given the day off, which was an unusual occurrence. He firmly believed that he was given this luxury only to stay out of the affairs of Axel, that red-headed twit, and Roxas, the charming new member.

Marluxia thought Roxas would look good in Central Park, but he had more control than that.

He never sat directly in front of the restaurant; for fear that the owner would recognize him, or worse, the gardener. He had avoided going back inside though he loved their food, and was extremely interested in the new breed of Spanish Moss that they hung in their doorway. But, no, he had to remain hidden. He had to look like any other freak that patrolled the streets of New York. Even in the daytime, freaks were about.

_But none are as freaky as me, _Marluxia thought excitedly. It was obvious that he was on the hunt.

He had decided to wear something much more feminine that usual. Saix told him that wearing the Organization's robes was ill-advised and that he had to remain…

_But Saix knows nothing about my craft._

Marluxia waited patiently. He knew some pedestrian would stop and stare. His pink hair was hard to miss. He looked haughty in his own respect, but he hid it extraordinarily well, considering what he was going to do to the poor soul that would open its mouth to him. It was only a matter of patience.

Wait with a smile.

Marluxia watched carefully as Axel and the young blonde one passed by. Roxas whispered something to Axel, but Axel ignored him. Marluxia seriously considered getting up and following them, but he had to concentrate on the task at hand. He wasn't going to get another day off for a very long time. Now was his only opportunity.

He pursed his lips together, fondling a lock of his hair and humming a song. He batted his eyelashes and winked at a man who had caught his attention. There was his prey.

The man looked at Marluxia, thinking about whether or not he was going to engage the cute female in conversation. He was sitting with two of his friends. They were all large, but not nearly as muscular as Marluxia would have liked. Muscle was full of protein. And protein was what he needed.

The man said something to his friends. They laughed, so Marluxia assumed it had something to do with fucking the brains out of the hot chick across the street. Marluxia crossed his legs seductively.

"Take the bait," he whispered.

Sure enough, the man's hormones and sexual deviancy carried him across the street. Marluxia squeezed a handful of dried leaves under the table. The aroma, which smelled mildly of cinnamon and roses wafted about, circling Marluxia in a deadly cloud of temptation. He was irresistible.

"Hey," the man said as he stopped in front of what he thought was a pink haired freak that could probably give a blowjob like a motherfucker. "Come here often?"

"Yes," Marluxia said, smiling. "All the time."

"That's funny," the man said, scratching the back of his head. "I come here everyday. I've never seen you around."

Marluxia paused. His trap was set; he just had to get the man to get closer. "I usually come here at night. I don't get much free time during the day."

"So you're a night owl?"

"You could say that."

"Listen," the man said. "My friends and I were wondering if you would like to sit with us today. I mean, you are so sexy and we wouldn't want such a fine woman to sit by herself."

Marluxia grit his teeth, but kept up his façade. "I'm flattered. But, I really have to go. I'm looking for someone."

The man looked down. "Oh, so you have a boyfriend."

"No."

The man looked up, hopeful. "So, you wanna go out sometime then?"

"You're jumping the gun." Marluxia loved it when they were so eager to run to their death. But, he felt this was too easy. He wanted more of a challenge. "But, I think we could set something up….right now?"

The man looked at his friends. They laughed loudly. Marluxia looked over the man's shoulder.

_So, they are trying to set me up, huh?_

Marluxia stood up, brushing the dried leaves off his pants. The man smirked and pinched his ass, laughing as he pulled Marluxia closer to him. Marluxia struggled against him weakly, being sure to squeal in a high pitched voice. He was annoyed though. His prey was never to touch him. And the high pitched voice was starting to dry out his throat. He kicked the man in his shin and ran.

He was sure that he would follow. Grown men could never let their pride get hurt, no matter what. And it was this selfish arrogance that was going to get him killed, and the plants fed. Even in broad daylight, New York City ignored the plight of the seemingly innocent woman about to be raped by a burly man and his friends. New York was always blind. New York didn't care.

Marluxia ducked into an alleyway. The man followed, but motioned for his friends to go around the rundown house and ambush Marluxia on the other side. They laughed stupidly as they blindly followed these orders. It was clear that this man had a bigger dick.

"Aww, come on, sexy." The man cooed. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna have some fun. I know you freaks. You show off your little horny side out in the open, but when a guy like me takes interest, you run. Such a little bitch."

Marluxia stood in a crook that led to the side door of his indoor garden. He was amazed at their stamina, being about to run from the restaurant to headquarters. It had to have been about ten blocks. And, now that he was rather tired, he didn't feel like killing them just yet. But he couldn't let them get away.

He stepped out into the sunlight. The man smirked.

"There you are."

Marluxia huffed. "I don't feel like killing you, right now. I suppose this would be your chance to back out." That was a lie. "I promise not to come after you." That was a lie, too.

The man couldn't contain himself. He doubled over, coughing as he choked up. He was being threatened by a woman. Marluxia blinked and shrugged.

"Aww well, I warned you."

The man looked up, and was knocked out by, what appeared to be a bat, though he wasn't sure. It had moved so fast. But whatever it was, it hurt, and he fell into the darkness. As the light faded from his vision, he remembered only being knocked out twice before. He yelped as he heard two more thwacks. Those were his two friends.

They had been tricked.

* * *

Mouse had brought them to a beautiful pent house in Upper Manhattan. Sora gawked at the sight. He could see over the tops of lots of buildings, but skyscrapers still rose above him, as if they were determined to make him feel as small as possible. Kairi stood next to him, and a small burst of fog stuck to the window.

"It's so beautiful," she whispered.

"Yeah," Sora said.

_How lame._

"You are welcome to stay here for the night," Senator Mouse said. "I'm expecting this charity event I'm going to to be quite informative. I would love for you to come, but you need to stay hidden, Sora. I wouldn't want to drag the media in. They would hound you. I'm sure there is plenty to do here. Don and Goofy will not be staying though."

Riku stood by the door. He was reluctant to step into such a clean place, knowing that he was nothing more than a dirty foot soldier. Senator Mouse turned to him.

"Please, make yourself feel at home. I don't mind."

Riku sighed, but did exactly what he was told. He sat on the edge of the starch white sofa. He was uncomfortable sitting on something so clean when he was dirty.

"Sir," Riku said softly. "How do we…?"

"Change?" Mouse offered. "Don't worry. I've arranged for a stylist to dress you."

Sora tore his eyes away from New York. "You can do that?"

Mouse chuckled. "You can do anything if you have the power and the money, Sora. So, yes, I can do that."

Sora breathed a sigh of amazement.

"I would suggest you shower and rest. We have a big day tomorrow. I want you fresh as possible when we travel to Washington. It's a whole new ballgame there."

Riku nodded at Mouse's implied meaning. Sora sat down on the carpet. He was still amazed at the world he had been forced into. Now, he had a rough friend who could probably kick his ass everyday of the week, and the girl of his dreams, though he wasn't sure if she was taken. Riku never really gave any indication that he had staked his claim, but Sora could feel history radiating off of Kairi.

"Kairi," Riku said as soon as Senator Mouse had left. "You first."

Kairi nodded and grabbed a fresh towel. She smelled it. It was soft. The softest towel she had ever felt. She was most definitely not accustomed to the rich man's lifestyle. She felt like she was almost intruding on someone.

When she closed the door, Riku jumped to his feet. This startled Sora. He looked up.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't like getting things that are not mine dirty." Riku said tartly. "It makes me feel bad. You can go after Kairi. I'm going to go for a walk."

"Where are you going?"

"To follow a personal lead." Riku answered. "I'll shower when I get back. Don't tell her I'm going somewhere. She'll get the wrong idea. Just tell her I went to ask Mick a question. She'll be out like a light. She's exhausted."

Sora nodded absently. Riku closed the door behind him and took the elevator down the fifty-something floors to the lobby. Sora milled about the room, looking at various picture frames. Michael Mouse's family looked genuine enough-a wife and a son-but Sora couldn't help but feel like the family was a front.

The water stopped. Sora pulled the Keyblade out of his pocket and placed it on a bedside table. It glittered beautifully, but Sora was mildly distracted by the fact that Kairi had called out.

"Riku?"

Sora stood on the other side of the bathroom door. He didn't want to open the door. He didn't think he could take it. "Riku went to ask Mick a question. He'll be back soon."

"That's okay," Kairi said. "Sora? Could you grab me something to sleep in?"

Sora nodded, though he knew Kairi couldn't see. He rooted around the closet and pulled out a small pair of pajamas. _For his son?_

He knocked on the door. Kairi opened the door, wrapped in a towel. She took the pajamas and closed the door quickly. Sora wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a birthmark just above her left…

_Focus!_

Sora snapped out of his stupor. The door was closed. He scratched the back of his head, thoughts still dwelling on the beauty that was on the other side of the bathroom door. When Kairi came out, she had her hair wrapped in a smaller towel. She was smiling, relaxed and at ease.

Sora looked out the huge window. It was still broad daylight. The clock indicated that it was only noon. Sora assumed that if Mick was asking them to rest now, that they were going to be doing most of their work in the dead of night. That meant that they had to change their sleeping schedule.

He didn't feel tired when he turned the water on. He didn't feel tired when he stripped his clothing off. And he didn't feel tired when he stepped into the shower. But, as soon as the water hit his bare skin, an indescribable and overwhelming fatigue washed over him.

He had been in there for maybe a minute, or an hour. He wasn't sure, but he realized that he had been in too long when a concerned knock broke him out of his warm cocoon.

"Sora? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He quickly turned the knobs and the water stopped. Steam rose off his bare skin. He wrapped a towel around his waist and cracked the door. Kairi was on the other side. She pushed a t-shirt through the door.

"Thanks," Sora muttered.

He dressed quickly. There was a clean pair of boxers wrapped in the shirt. He left the bathroom. Kairi was curled on the bed, fast asleep. He debated whether he should crawl into bed with her. But, she moved over and patted the bed.

"It's so soft." She whispered.

Sora smiled inwardly as he crawled next to Kairi settled in. He tried awkwardly to not really touch her. It wasn't his place. He closed his eyes, drifting into what he felt was a peaceful sleep. He was next to the girl he knew he loved. Riku wasn't even a thought in his mind.

* * *

Riku left the building and looked down the street. Senator Mouse had already gone, but he didn't really want to ask him anything. The personal lead he had was waiting for him at a restaurant that wasn't far. Luxia.

Riku rounded the corner and came to the restaurant. He pushed past the hanging moss and waited for a server. The waitress came to her podium. She had a black apron tied around her waist, and she looked frazzled.

"How many?"

Riku looked around the restaurant. "I was actually here to meet with a group of guys. There were three."

The waitress ran her fingers through her hair. "Listen, kid. Lots of folks come through here. I can't pay attention to everything all the time. A party of three? We get those all the time. Are you going to eat or not?"

Riku grimaced. "No, thanks, I was just looking for my…associates."

The waitress pushed him out, "Then, please leave, I have work to do."

Riku growled softly. That was New York for you. He kicked a bit of trash and screamed. His contact hadn't showed up. This pissed him off. An old man sat near him, reading a newspaper.

"You look stressed out," the old man said. "Why don't you take a seat?"

"And why don't you mind your own business?" Riku said hotly.

The old man folded his newspaper. "I'm guessing you're looking for someone?"

Riku sat down. "Three people. I was supposed to have a meeting with them. Here. At noon. They would've been here sooner."

The old man laced his fingers together. "Tough looking? Kind of muscular? Rude?"

"Yeah, did you see them?"

The old man tapped his chin. "I'm not sure. I think my memory wasn't what it used to be."

"Look, old man, I don't have any money."

"But you have some of value, I'm sure."

Riku tensed and put his hand in his pocket. "Not here."

The old man held his hand out. "A simple handshake will do, young lad. I'm sure you can at least afford that."

Riku took his hand out of his pocket and shook the man's hand. He left a small packet of white powder in the winkled palm.

"I'm your new contact." The old man said. "They call me Diz. I'm…pleased to meet you. You seem so much more uptight then my lackeys portrayed you to be."

"I'm just here for information." Riku said. "I just want to know something."

Diz chuckled. "You think because you give me one payment, I'll tell you what you want to know? You aren't that street conscious then. You should probably go back to your little drug thing. You are in way over your head."

"Are you with the Heartless?" Riku blurted.

"That mouth will get you killed one day." Diz said calmly. "You sure demand a lot from someone you just met. We need to work on your people skills."

Riku grit his teeth. "I don't have time for this. I'm leaving." He stood up and took a step back.

"Well, I didn't even get a name?"

Riku spun around. "You're extorting me. I don't need to give you a name."

Diz raised an eyebrow. "Well, then, our relationship will be very tense then. But, I look forward to working with you in the future. You are a very well connected young man aren't you? Senators, I hear."

"Whatever." Riku said. "You want to be my new contact? You need to listen to me then."

"We sure are cocky."

Riku frowned. "You want something."

Diz looked across the street. A person with a mess of pink hair watched him through the corner of his eye. "I think you are a little…under qualified. But, you'll do. I'm looking for something, too."

"Oh?"

Diz nodded. "A computer program."

Riku glanced at him. "I'm not into computers."

"It's not a computer that I'm interested in," Diz said. "It's a part. Very important to a friend of mine. I want it."

"I said I'm not a computer guy."

"But, I'm sure you'll figure something out." Diz whispered.

"Fine," Riku growled. "What's it called?"

"The Keyblade."

Riku swallowed a lump in his throat. "I'll see what I can do."

"You will be richly rewarded for you efforts."

Riku scoffed, "Yeah, after you rob me."

"And you have a nice day, kind sir." Diz stood up and left with his newspaper. "I enjoyed our chat."

Riku looked at his shoes. He thought back to the computer store. He knew the Keyblade was there. Or at least had been. He saw Sora pick it up, but he wasn't sure if he had kept it. All he knew was that Mick wanted it to stay hidden. At least for now. Everybody had their own plan, but Riku felt like he wasn't the only one trying to pull the wrong strings. If Diz wasn't the leader of the Heartless, he knew who was.

Diz was important.

He headed back to Senator Mouse's penthouse. He shoved his way through the crowds of people, blending once again into the bowels of New York. He became one of the nameless faces. Angry, just like everyone else. Trapped.

He pushed past a couple of guys. One with dyed red hair and one with short blonde. The blonde one looked at him briefly, but averted his eyes. Riku couldn't have cared less. He was occupied with something else.

Diz.

* * *

"Axel, I don't think I'm ready for this," Roxas muttered as they stepped up to the vast museum that was 'The Met'.

People flooded everywhere. A surprisingly large amount of them were foreigners, snapping pictures and making gestures to the beauty of the world's most recognized museum. Of course after the Smithsonian.

"Relax, Roxas," Axel said. "This is a simple mission. I lead, you follow. Piece o' pie."

"I thought it was cake," Roxas said.

"And I thought I told you to zip it."

Roxas looked down, but upon realizing that he would look suspicious, he lifted his head up. Axel grabbed him quickly and snapped a photo. Roxas pushed him away.

"Alibi."

As they got closer to the doors, the security increased ten fold. Half the staircase was blocked off by police and government officials that looked like they could kill you with a mere glance.

"Is the President going to be here?" Roxas had always wanted to speak with Obama, but never thought he would have the chance.

"No," Axel said. Dreams dashed. "He's busy doing stuff for the people and freedom and blah blah blah, you get it. He's doing his _job._"

Roxas quieted. "So, how do we get in?" He noticed that a lot of people were wearing special tags around their necks.

Axel scooped up a bag that was sitting on one of the steps. The family that it belonged to didn't notice. They were too busy being tourists. Axel pulled out a handful of tags and tossed one to Roxas.

"You are way too good at this."

Axel shrugged. "Somebody's gotta do it." He looked around. "We are Italian."

Roxas sputtered. "Do I look Italian?"

"No, but you sure as hell will act like it." Axel spat. "If anyone says anything to you, you simply say _spiacente_ or _scusilo_. Commit it to memory."

"Spiacente. Scusilo." Roxas whispered.

"It means 'sorry' and 'excuse me'." Axel explained quickly. "That's all you should need."

"But what if…"

"What if the world explodes into a pumpkin pie?" Axel asked, waving his arms. "What if you were to transform into a bagel? What if, what if, what if? Stop asking stupid questions. Focus."

Roxas shook his head. He had to collect his thoughts. He couldn't mess his first mission up. He had to prove himself.

"Get ready," Axel whispered.

They passed a security guard. They flashed their passes, smiled like a couple of tourists and gave thumbs up stupidly. Roxas never thought acting foreign would be so hard. He had to pretend to not know a thing about a country he lived in for his whole life. Lily would have loved to see him acting so strange.

Lily.

But he didn't have time to think about that. He had to focus. He looked around. Thousands of artifacts, from the oldest Chinese jade dragon, to the most up to date modern art, stared at them. And dozens of Senators were mingling among the civilians, offering photo ops and handshakes, and discussing political views with each other over rich food.

Though, to Roxas, it seemed almost impossible to get near them for more than a minute. It looked as if each person had about thirty seconds to speak and receive an answer before they were ushered away by either a cop or a bodyguard. But, he watched a little harder, and thought he saw someone he knew.

"Stop looking so tense," Axel whispered. He snapped another photo. "We are on vacation, remember?"

Axel smiled cutely at a receptionist, who was drumming her fingers on a desk. The sign in front read "Customer Service". Axel winked at her and she blushed, looking away. It was at this moment that a police officer made his way up to them. He looked mean.

Roxas instantly panicked. Had they been found out?

"Stay in character," Axel warned.

"You!" the cop said loudly.

Axel turned around casually. "I' m. spiacente. È ci un problema, ufficiale?"

The cop paused. "Ah, a native. Finally. No, ho pensato appena che cadeste qualcosa." He held up a colorful tag. "You' necessità del ll questo di vedere il resto delle esposizioni. I wouldn' la t vuole un italiano del collega mancare fuori su questi bei impianti dell'art. Le parti del Michelangelo e di Botticelli Buonarroti sono nell'ala del nord."

Axel smiled. "Grazie, ma potreste dirmi perché tanti senatori degli Stati Uniti sono qui? Sembra una punta soffocante."

The officer laughed. Roxas looked between them and smiled. "Quei bastardi arroganti? Sono qui ascoltare un discorso da un certo capretto. Apparentemente, è un certo genio culturale. Perdita di tempo, realmente."

Axel laughed and walked away, swinging the tag in his hands. The officer chuckled merrily, but soon returned to his post.

"You did good," Axel said.

Roxas frowned. "I didn't understand a word of that."

"Basically, they are gathering at this museum to listen to some kid mock culture with a Zexion-sized vocabulary. I'm sure they will be riveted."

"What does that tell us?"

"When to strike." Axel said, knocking on the back of Roxas's head. "Keep up."

Axel guided Roxas to the North Wing. Nobody bothered him. Nobody noticed them. Nobody cared. Roxas felt incredibly small. The art work grew progressively older. The mediums grew more and more genuine. Oil paintings, pounded metals, sculpted marble. All so magnificent and perfectly lit by tiny lamps.

Roxas stopped at the entrance of the hall of Italian Art. Axel had told him that he needed to survey. Just circle the perimeter, looking for his window. Roxas was terrified. He thought that every person who glanced at him knew he was trying to do something. That every eye was watching him.

But, he had to focus. No stupid questions. No stupid moves. No stupid motions. He was Italian. Italian on vacation. With his…best friend.

He noticed that a lot of the senators were speaking with women much younger than they were. They were whispering in the young debutantes' ears, and they giggled their responses. Roxas turned away when they noticed him looking in their direction.

"Filthy adulterers." Roxas muttered.

He stopped in front of a large painting. "The Conversion of Saul". Michelangelo. Dated back to the year 1542. Roxas leaned closer, studying the thousands of minute details. The one part that most interested him was God, or what was supposed to be representing God, casting a beam of light down to mortal man. His angels gathered around him, playing, or watching snidely.

The humans, though. They looked terrified. Like they had done something wrong and were finally being punished for it. Roxas could see the sick and the wounded. The thieves and the adulterers. They begged for mercy, but Roxas could imagine that they had had plenty of chances to fix their flaws before punishment had been handed to them.

They were being lazy.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Roxas froze. The voice that had spoken to him was deep. Commanding. It held a power than rocked him to his soul. It was a voice that had countless years of wisdom. And it was scary. He turned his head.

"Don't turn around, just listen." The voice hissed.

Roxas nodded.

"It's a wonder, how human beings think they can get away with everything. That punishment is beneath them."

"It is."

"We must fix this. Destroy the flaws in society."

Roxas breathed softly. He wasn't sure who was speaking to him. He was tempted to turn around, but he was afraid of what he would see. He just couldn't risk it.

"Your essay was impressive. Ten pages. Eleven point font. Chaos Theory. Anarchy." The voice chuckled. "Reminds me of my hot headed nature when I was your age. Please, explain further."

"Uhh…"

"I need to be sure I made the right choice."

Roxas swallowed. "Well, I figure that the way nature evolved primates into human beings was flawed. An example would be how one small change in the genetic make-up created human beings. We are arrogant, selfish, and disrespectful of the world we live in. Nature had not intended for this to happen, she made one tiny miscalculation, but we still managed to escape our fate. And it all started with one mutation. Society is a lie. Just a structure used to keep us in place. No advancement. No evolution."

"So, you believe humans are obsolete?"

"To a point."

"Interesting." The voice fell silent. "So, anarchy is in your plan?"

"Plan?"

"You joined this Organization to do something about our world. Is anarchy part of that?"

Roxas nodded.

"Then, you have a nice day. I'm sure you could do with a conversation with Senator Coolidge. He's not so open minded."

_Is that a clue?_

"Yes, sir." Roxas muttered.

Roxas waited for a whole ten minutes before he turned around. He had no idea who had spoken to him. He scanned the crowd, looking for someone who he thought could fit the voice that had spoken to him. Many Senators were collecting in the wing, preparing to listen to the speaker. Roxas looked around, his heart pounding.

_Where is he?_

"Ryan?"

Roxas seized up. He shuddered, knowing that taunting voice, and those arrogant inflections. He kicked himself mentally. He turned around, and saw the last person on earth he wanted. Adam McLean. Wearing a crisp new shirt with a sleek tie. His hair was slicked back, and he was shuffling papers in his hands.

"I thought I saw you earlier," Adam said. "What are you doing here?"

Roxas grit his teeth. "I'm enjoying the museum. What are you doing here?"

Adam smiled devilishly. "You remember that essay contest. The one you lost?"

Roxas growled softly. "Yeah, what of it?"

Adam gestured to himself. "Well, I thought I it was great that I even won, but now I'm giving a speech to the Senate. They wanted to hear what my views are on foreign cultures. I think they might actually do some of the stuff that I talk about. Isn't that great? I might make a difference in the world."

"Good for you," Roxas said. _I want to kill you so badly, you motherfucker._

"I haven't seen you around lately."

_Fucking stab you in your throat._

"Where have you been?"

_Plotting your death._

"Where's Lily?" Adam said, bouncing on his heels and looking around. "Did you break up? Cause I would so fuck that—"

Roxas snapped. He had been teeming with this hatred, and he thought it had disappeared, but seeing the bastard's face again brought everything back to the surface. The teasing, the taunting, the arrogance. He just couldn't stand it. He wished Marluxia was there, just so he could slice his fucking head off. He wanted to see him suffer.

He punched him square in the nose, and the sickening crunch echoed in the hall. Adam grabbed his face, howling in pain. Roxas wasn't going to let him get away. He tackled him to the floor, banging his head on the marble, coating it in splashes of blood.

The room instantly panicked. People thought something was about to explode. They dove to the floor, screaming. Some of the Senator's bodyguards pushed people to the ground, protecting their bosses.

Axel looked around the panicking crowd. There was so much confusion, that people didn't notice Roxas attacking his peer. He froze, looking for someone. As soon as he was given his cue, he sprang into action, racing to the middle of the room. He grabbed Roxas by the back of his shirt and dragged him off a bleeding and disoriented Adam.

He fished around in his pocket and pulled out the small package. He made sure to call out Italian words. He was signaling someone. He passed by a Senator, who was trying his best to calm a group of young children. Axel bumped into him, hiding Roxas's face.

"Spiacente."

The Senator shrugged it off, and returned his attention to the children. Axel and Roxas hurriedly left the museum, acting as if nothing happened in the North Wing. The rest of the museum obviously had not heard the din, for it was calm, and quiet.

Roxas immediately regretted what he did. He tried to say something to Axel, but all he could do was huff.

"Shut the fuck up, Roxas," Axel said. "You just fucked me in the ass."

Roxas remained silent until they were several blocks away from The Met. Axel pushed him down an alleyway. They went about halfway, before Axel stopped them.

"Take off your shirt."

"What?"

Axel lifted his shirt up and over his head. "It's got blood on it. We need to change tactics."

He stripped his own shirt off. There was a bag sitting in a doorway. It was red, a sign. Axel opened it and pulled out a couple of water bottles. He unscrewed one and dumped it all over himself. He then dumped the second one on Roxas.

"We are joggers preparing for a marathon." Axel said quickly. "Run."

Roxas cleared the water from his eyes and followed Axel. He felt slightly self-conscious. He wasn't used to being so naked. But, he was more terrified about what was going to happen to him when he returned to the labs. Saix was going to kill him.

He fucked up. Big time.

* * *

**I realize that maybe 95% of you will not be able to read Italian, so I put the conversation in English.**

**Axel turned around casually. "I'm sorry. Is there a problem officer?"**

**The cop paused. "Ah, a native. Finally. No, I thought you dropped something." He held up a colorful tag. "You'll need this to see the rest of the exhibits. I wouldn't want a fellow Italian to miss these beautiful works of art. The Michelangelo ****Buonarroti, ****and Botticelli pieces are in the North Wing."**

"**Thank you. Could you tell me why there are so many United States Senators here? It seems a bit stuffy."**

**The cop laughed. "Those arrogant bastards? They are here to listen to a speech from some kid. Apparently, he's a cultural genius. Waste of time, really."**

**So, hope you will stay tuned. I'm planning to write a little seperate kind of thing for Marla Shift. And I think DeadShut wants to write an Axel story. It'll coincide with this. We'll keep you updated. DeadShut will be writing the next chapter.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	6. Kingdom Hearts

"_Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
Looms but the Horror of the shade,  
And yet the menace of the years  
Finds and shall find me unafraid._."

It matters not how strait the gate,  
How charged with punishments the scroll,  
I am the master of my fate:  
I am the captain of my soul

-William Ernest Henley, _Invictus_, 1875

* * *

**Ah, welcome back, Reader. I was certain you'd be back to see the next chapter of this tale; the temptation is too much to resist, isn't it? Yes, I thought so. Last chapter, you may have thought the shit had certainly hit the fan, but the flow of excrement is still occurring. Ordinary people are still being forced into this fateful battle between good and evil, and new pawns have, tragically, been set into play.**

**As a fun little side-note, to help set the mood, I cannot urge anyone more than to check out the song "Hoodoo" by the band Muse. Actually, yeah, go ahead onto YouTube and search it. Come back here in 3 minutes or so when you're done listening to it. You done? That was pretty fucking incredible, huh? Got an emotional feeling of despair? Excellent, you're all ready to continue this tragedy.

***OH! And as a side-side-note: I have a FictionPress account, in case anyone would like to see my disturbing poetry or fiction, the latter being the same sort of thrilling pace and psychotic humor that you see in this story. I'm working on another original thriller story currently, the working title being "Assets and Liabilities", a story about a small family made up of almost entirely females, going into poverty…and their only hope from pulling themselves out of going broke is by listening to someone who knows how to properly use and gain money…but the person who holds this information hates them with a passion.

****AAAAND a side-side-**_side_-note! Check out haji's "Krystahl Kingdom Crossover Saga", starring her remarkably charming OC's! Newest chapter has been put up two days ago WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?**

Anyways, enjoy Chapter Six, and have a nice everfuckin' day. ;)

**-DeadShut**

**NOTE from Haji-I made minor adjustments just to make sure that everything was going smoothly. I merely added a few sentences and changed the locations of some things. If I did it correctly, you should not be able to tell. :)**

**NOTE NOTE from Haji-I realize that I may not have been clear as to where the "Roxas" incident took place. The Metropoliton Museum of Art is in Manhattan. The Smithsonian is in D.C. Sorry for any confusion. :(**

**

* * *

**

"_Were you out of your fucking mind, boy?_"

Roxas winced with every word Saix had spoken. He was a pathetic figure, back against the fridge in the Kitchen, tears rolling down his cheeks in salty streams. Saix was standing in front of him, towering him because of his height, red in the face and eyes. Calling this man "furious" would be an understatement. Such _hate_ in those eyes, but underneath that pure loathing Roxas could vaguely see the man was panicking.

"I'm sorry, Saix," whimpered Roxas. "So, so sorry. I don't know what came over me…"

"Ah, but _I_ know," spoke his superior, teeth bared. "_I _know exactly what came over you. Your past life of misery and woe is _over_, Roxas. It served its purpose: bringing you to us. Now it's time to let it all go, and to start your new purpose, which is serving the Organization by _succeeding in its missions_."

Roxas slid to the tiled floor, and burst into a spasm of uncontrollable sobs. Tears _flew_ from his eyes, soaking his chest. He felt horrible, worse than he ever had before.

_I wish I were dead_, he thought miserably.

But Saix put a hand on his shoulder, much like he had done the first night Roxas had stayed here in Oblivion Labs. Roxas looked up at his superior, eyes bloodshot and puffy. Saix's face was now calm and loving, like it had been before the incident at The Met And that face was what made the tears suddenly dry up.

"I will," Saix spoke softly. "Give you a chance to redeem yourself. Go up the elevator, and into my room. Wait for me there."

"Y-yes, sir," said Roxas, standing up and heading for the exit. "Thank you, sir."

"Just be thankful that I'm forgiving."

Saix closed his eyes and motioned the boy away.

As Roxas took the elevator upstairs, his mind was racing.

Saix had been correct. He had made a mistake in more than one way. It wasn't just that he had blown the mission, but also because he had acted on the seemingly eternal ghosts of his past and depression. No other Organization member would have done that. They would've been patient, calm, and collected, being the intellectuals that they all were. It wasn't just a mission to prove Roxas' loyalty; it was also to test him as a person. No member of the Organization was just a uniform or a pawn, but an actual person who was on a quest to become an even _better_ human being by…what?

Roxas blinked heavily, puzzled. What exactly _was_ the motivation of the Organization? What were they striving for, again? Roxas recalled what Saix had told him the previous night; it was a virus they were trying to breed. But what would that virus be used for?

_They won't tell you if you're failing missions!_

That was true. If the Organization found him to be useless and not as strong as Member Number One had anticipated, they would withhold information from him…perhaps even kill him.

The elevator doors opened, and Roxas stepped out. Nobody was inside Oblivion Labs except for himself, Saix, and Axel. Axel hadn't been blamed for Roxas' mistakes, and took the time to celebrate by drinking himself into a coma in the den downstairs while Roxas got screamed at. But, that didn't matter. It _was_ all his fault, and Axel was not to blame. In fact, Axel had gotten them out of that museum safely.

Roxas' mind drifted away from his punishment and to the mysterious man who had talked to him at the museum as he admired the painting. The man was clearly a part of the Organization, and was one of the two members Roxas hadn't met yet: the gambler Luxord, who it _couldn't_ be because he was apparently busy elsewhere in the country, counting cards at blackjack games and handling the Organization's finances…so that left _him_. Number One. The Head Honcho. The Big Guy. Doctor Xehanort had been impressed by his essay, _and_ his personality. This slightly cheered Roxas up, but he spiraled back down into depression when he realized that Xehanort would probably be horribly upset at his failure.

Head bowed in shame, he walked over to the seventh door in the hallway on his left, the door with a little golden "7" on it. The door's technology, sensing his body heat, slid open, reminding Roxas very much of futuristic movies that had the same sort of devices. He stepped inside.

Saix's room was, as there was no other way to put it, _cool_. Large and circular, much like the Labs' main room. Except this room was almost completely black, illuminated only by the violet blacklights that were bolted to the walls, and tiny, glowing spheres that were literally floating around the room, no bigger than a clump of dust. A couple of these little balls of energy floated right through Roxas, and he realized with a leap of curiosity and delight that these were holographic projections of _stars_. On a desk against the round wall was a desk, and hovering above this desk was _another_ set of holograms, this one depicting the solar system. Above the desk, inside a glass case that was bolted to his wall, Saix had hung up a strange weapon: a humongous sword made of polished silver that glittered with the reflections of the simulated stars. Emblazoned on the blade of this weapon were the words: _Per sempre cerchiamo._ To get a closer look, Roxas walked over, but his attention went immediately to the desk.

The desk Saix used was made of glossy wood, but had a total of five built-in screens on its surface. Three screens were off, but two were on, and Roxas saw that these were _computer screens_, built right into the second-in-command's desk. One of the two that were on had a window up reading: "HOLOGRAMS IN CURRENT USE", and gave a lengthy list of all sorts of strange terms that Roxas assumed to deal with space. Realizing it was a touch screen, Roxas scrolled through the list, only two of the hundreds of options being checked: "Solar System (default)" and "Starlight, Star bright (default)".

Curiosity got the best of him. Roxas lightly tapped one of the choices in this selection screen, one reading "Jupiteraurora". The box on the left of this text was filled in by a small checkmark.

Roxas turned and in the center of the room was Jupiter, fifth planet from the sun, rotating slightly. Blue lights flashed on its gassy surface, a sight that was so beautiful that Roxas could not bear to _not_ get closer. He moved his hand through the colorful hologram.

CNN had always been marveled for its use of projection; Saix had conjured up something that would have the dead turning in their graves with wonder. And Roxas could not take his eyes off of it. He only did so when he eagerly craved to see another one.

He went back to the screen, unchecked Jupiter (which disappeared behind him), and hit the option "Black_hole". Roxas turned and, ecstatic, watched as a realistic opening formed within the middle of the room. Mouth agape, Roxas walked over towards it and watched the thing's frightening beauty.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Roxas yelped and turned to see Saix at the door, watching his underling and the black hole. The scarred man strode towards them.

"I'm so sorry, Saix," said Roxas quickly. "It was just so _cool_, and-"

Saix dismissed him with a wave of his hand. The superior's eyes were now fully intent on the black hole, watching it like a toddler watches a kid's show. Except this was not innocent wonder; this was inhuman awe.

"Understandable," said Saix, his voice almost a whisper. "A black hole is such a…such a remarkable thing. A region of space moving so fast with so much mass, that even _light_ cannot escape its unrelenting grasp. And all of that light resides inside it…a blinding light that would surely kill us if we were to survive the pressure of this black hole…which we would not. Literally sucking things out of existence, as it reflects nothing."

Roxas said nothing.

"Have you ever taken the time to realize how large space is? How _little_ we all are when it comes to space? Our knowledge is next to nothing on a universal scale, just a crumb. What would happen to all of our minds if we find some creatures twice the size of our planets who move as fast as light? Something that can survive in space, astro-nomads? Who is to say life is limited to inhabitants of planets? Oh, imagine the _secrets_ this universe must hold. You see movies of fantasy, people bending reality…something like that _must_ exist out there in all of that. Just…_something_. Even if it's a species of complete and utter stupidity, evolved to be more animalistic than humane, just _give me something_."

"Is that why you've mapped out the entire galaxy?" asked Roxas. He also lowered his voice to a whisper; it seemed appropriate. "To study all of its living conditions?"

"Of course," Saix's eyes never wavered from his holograms. "And, with the Organization's help, I will one day be able to continue my research personally, and not behind-the-scenes. Once we require what we're after…" His voice trailed off.

Roxas couldn't resist any longer.

"Sir," he said. "I apologize for my errors today, yet I am willing to redeem myself. I will do anything you ask of me correctly, as long as you tell me exactly _what_ this is all for. What is the Virus? What will it be used to achieve?"

Saix finally took his focus away from his projections, and faced Roxas, studied him for a long time, as if calculating whether or not to reveal this final secret.

Then, he said, "Apology accepted. It was my mistake for sending a new guy on recon so suddenly, anyways. Have a seat on my bed, and I'll tell you why you're here. You may not believe it at first, but you best open your mind because it's as real as your little screw-up today."

* * *

The sun set over the horizon as Adam Pete McLean walked down the street, teeth clenched in rage, blood staining his face. He walked with his usual swagger, because confidence was key, but his confidence had been somewhat lacking ever since that Ryan _freak_ attacked him earlier today. What the fuck was that asshole doing in New York, anyways?

McLean's head was boiling. He wanted to kill Ryan Hall. Tie him up, fuck his girlfriend every way possible in front of him, then kill them both. Slowly. Set them on fire. Adam was so angry that he couldn't even make the speech: he _had_ to take a walk. Ever since he had come here alone (his parents had work, and he had the money for a bus ticket), he had felt more mature and in-control than he had ever felt at school. And then that stupid prick had to ruin it all.

_Whatever. You kicked his ass in the essay-contest_.

Yeah, but he _was_ the one spreading rumors around, saying it was dangerous and affected some of the students' behavior…But Adam McLean played to _win_, though! Not to lose to some fucking chaos-obsessed lowlife! Why couldn't Hall just kill himself or something? Why'd he have to come and ruin Adam's day? He thought this the entire ride to D.C. He had to pick up a few supplies.

_When I get back to New York, I'm going to kill him._

That was it. That was the truth. Suddenly, the essay didn't matter anymore. Neither did the fact that he was in Washington D.C. All that mattered now was McLean's thirst for violence. Yes, he would shoot Ryan dead, but not before finding his girlfriend and fucking that bitch's cinnamon ring until she bled and pleaded for mercy. Then he would kill her, too.

He smiled at the twilight sky before walking into the hotel the Senate had rented a room for him in. They were very generous in their gift giving. He supposed that they knew his parents were hard workers. McLean went up to his room without acknowledging a soul. Every time he turned to look at someone, he saw _his_ face…Hall's face. And every time he saw Hall's face, he saw the image of Lily Ion, tied up in rope, buck-naked, crying for help as he, Adam, showed her who was boss. In his fantasy, Adam could almost feel her smooth ass-cheek as he smacked it with all his might, his mind's eye seeing the way it grew red with his handprint. He would show her a new meaning of sex, and Ryan would watch every second of it at gunpoint. Maybe the fucker would even cry. McLean shuddered in delight.

As soon as he was in his room, Adam sat down at his laptop and searched the Ion's house number. He found it easily, and called from his cell phone. It rang a few times before a groggy voice came on.

"Hello?"

"Hi, there," said Adam in the most pleasant voice he could muster. "My name is-er-"

_Don't use your first name!_

"-Pete. My name is Pete Peg. Is this Mrs. Ion?"

"Yes…who are you?"

"I'm a friend of Lily's. Is she there?"

"No, I'm afraid she's been vacationing in Germany with her father. But they'll be back by tomorrow. Do you need to leave a message for her…?"

"Nope, that's fine."

Adam hung up on the woman before she could say anything else.

This was going to go _delightfully_. The bitch would be back by tomorrow. Which meant that he needed to get to Manhattan right away.

He hadn't meant to use his middle name as a cover, but it was the first thing that came to his mind. Besides, he _loved_ his middle name. "Adam" was boring. "Pete" was a name for a champion…which he was, wasn't he? Yes, of course he was. And, soon, Ion would be tasting something other than Ryan's cock. Something metal and greasy. Something loaded with bullets.

From his suitcase, McLean produced a small revolver. It had been his father's idea, and although at first the concept scared him, McLean now _enjoyed_ the weapon's presence. It was almost like fate was giving him a chance to do what must be done: get rid of shit-eating Ryan Hall, no matter what the consequences were.

Adam Pete McLean checked out of his hotel that night, and a new journey began.

_Just wait until I get back to New York, fucker._

He got back on the New York Greyhound that night.

* * *

Sora could not rest. His heart was pounding as his body pressed against Kairi's. Her lemony perfume was so strong, yet so beautiful, and when she wrapped her arms around his torso, he could have died and gone to Heaven. Her face turned towards his chest, and her pretty little nose smelled him.

"You smell good," she pointed out in a whisper.

Sora chuckled. "Thank you?"

"Mhmm."

He stared at the ceiling, pondering as to what he should do. Was she coming onto him? Or was she just being friendly?

_Awfully fucking friendly_.

That made him grin a little.

Nothing, not a thing in the world, mattered right now except for this bed and Kairi. Although he closed his eyes a couple times, he was kept awake by his racing mind, sometimes fueled by worries, other times filled with just curious questions. Did she want him to do something? Had she felt the same connection he had? He decided that he was going to risk it all: he kissed her head. Her hair was warm and smooth on his lips.

She looked up at him with her beautiful blue eyes, freckled face incredibly blushing.

"W-why did you do that?" she asked him, but she was not letting go.

Sora answered so simply that it shocked him, "Because I think I love you."

"You don't even know me."

"I know. And I _still_ love you."

He kissed her full on the lips, something he had never done with a girl before. She closed her long-lashed eyes, yet he kept his open, studying her face carefully. They broke apart, and Sora's mind was abuzz. Triumphant music sounded in his ears even though in reality all was silent in the apartment. His chest was now calmer now that he had broken the ice, but it was still rushing feverishly.

Kairi was now blushing harder than ever, and she finally unlocked her embrace, only to be on top of him a moment later, kissing him again. Sora felt himself respond with much enthusiasm, putting his hands on her hair and down her back. Her long-fingered hands ran restlessly on his face.

They broke apart again, now gasping for breath.

"Sora?" Kairi panted.

"Y-yeah?" He felt as though he had been hit by a train…a train full of…marshmallows.

_Maybe I'm not a poet._

"We can_not_ tell Riku."

"Uh, no," he said. "That would be bad."

"So let's not kill time; he'll be back any minute."

They went at it again.

* * *

Roxas was laying down in his bed, on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling and recounting everything he had just heard from Saix. What he had gathered was mind-numbingly incredible, such a deliciously grand plan, and such a large step for humanity. The whole explanation he had just received had three main points of focus: 1. The Virus. 2. The Takeover. 3. Kingdom Hearts.

The Virus came first, probably because it was the first step of the entire plot that the Organization was working hard for. The Virus was codenamed "Nobody", since it was being bred by literal nobody-scientists. The Virus was almost like computer malware, but brought into existence through careful research. At first, it could only infect people via syringe, but (thanks to Xaldin, who was a very successful virus-breeder before joining the Organization) could now be administered through the air. The Nobody Virus almost _was_ a computer virus, for it was literally programmed to infect only humans or human-shaped bodies. The Virus, once inside a person, living or dead, will then replicate millions upon millions of duplications, all enveloping certain parts of the bodies. The victim's brain is replaced by programming from the Virus, and the victim loses his or her humanity and becomes a "Nobody", an emotionless being under the Organization's control.

Next was the Takeover. Doctor Xehanort's plan was to infect a couple major cities around America with the Virus and let chaos ensue for a period of time. By then, the Organization was hoping to have people, some Members and others Nobodies, within the government by killing off actual officials…which was what Roxas had been sent to help do: place a tracking device on a Senator so Xigbar could assassinate the politician. Once America was in complete panic, the Virus would be sent to all other cities and towns possible by the first Nobodies, creating an army. These lifeless soldiers would then spread out to all over the world, the Virus with them. Within a couple years of this, speculated Saix, the majority of the human population would be gone.

Which lead to the last part: Kingdom Hearts.

This bit of information was hard for Roxas to believe, but he trusted Saix like a loyal son would trust a father. According to the scarred second-in-command, the U.S government had received vast amounts of knowledge in the summer of 1947, when something extraordinary arrived on Earth. To many civilians, this arrival was known as the "Roswell Incident", and the media's conclusions were that it was an extraterrestrial ship crashing on Earth. They were half-right; the beings in the ship were not from Earth…at least, not from _this_ Earth.

From the debris of the crashed ship, people saw strange humanoid figures: aliens. But not from another planet, oh, no. The creatures were from Earth…but not this Earth. The Earth they were from, or so they said, was one in another universe. The same galaxy, but with an _entirely_ different timeline in both human evolution and technological advancements. Astounded, scientists of the time recorded everything one of the surviving creatures had spoke of, before they died. The beings had come to ally themselves with other universes in order to invite them to "Kingdom Hearts" (as researchers codenamed it), the meeting point of this humongous webwork of universes, where all universes could share with one another the secrets of existence that they had found. And, with this trading of knowledge and technology, the representatives from all universes could become pioneers and help further the knowledge of this alliance by exploring every corner of their existences with the powers bestowed upon them.

That was the Organization's goal: to reach Kingdom Hearts and find that power. But _not_ to use it as pioneers for the universal alliances. They would use it to further their control on the universe they were in, extend themselves to other planets, see the secrets of their galaxies, and close any tears in the universal paradox that any parallel Earths may have opened to seal themselves from future enemies.

And to do that…they needed to get the Keyblade.

When the creatures from Roswell passed away, they gave one last golden egg to humanity: a computer device, almost like a USB, full of information on how to reach Kingdom Hearts, and also an extremely powerful weapon. The Keyblade's whereabouts were unknown to almost anyone, and many had dismissed it as legend. Over the course of time, many of those who also heard of the Keyblade's knowledge about Kingdom Hearts created fake ones, with no information but just as much firepower. These were Keyblades, yes, but the _real_ Keyblade was still out there somewhere, and once the Organization had it in its grasp…God help the world.

Roxas sat up in his bed, and, using both hands, grabbed at something he had but underneath the piece of furniture. In both hands were two weapons, one shadowy and hellish, the other white and angelic. _Oathkeeper_ and _Oblivion_, two mock-Keyblades, but two of the most powerful. Number XIII stood up with his Keyblades, and swung them around the room; they made peculiar noises when swung, like a sound of energy was trailing behind them. They felt so _right_ in his hands. With them, he figured, he would never fail another mission again. He thanked Saix a hundred times for these gifts of power, and when Saix told him to redeem himself by creating as much hell as possible with these things.

_Oathkeeper _and _Oblivion_ spiraling between his fingers, Roxas was thinking one thing and one thing only:

_God help the world.

* * *

_

**I hope I caught all the inconsistencies. Excuse me if I didn't. DeadShut wrote this lovely chapter. *claps***

**I'll be writing the next one, but I think I should let those who follow my other series know. I am taking step back. I've got the biggest writer's block on the planet. I mean, I have an idea of how I want it to end, but I can't put it into words. The _right _words. I'm sorry if it takes a while. I promise it'll be epic.**

**Has a nice day from the both of us. :)**


	7. Club Heartless

**Good evening, from Haji. I wrote this chapter. DeadShut just told me it's been an honor to work with me. That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.**

**But make no mistake, this story is not meant to make you feel those feelings. You are meant to sympathize with those who are going through the most tragic of circumstances. You are supposed to writhe in pain when you see just how far some are willing to go to achieve the seemingly impossible. This is a tale of courage, and strength. Pain and misery. There is no warmth in the world we live in. None at all.**

**Enjoy our tale.**

* * *

"Wake up!"

Sora shot up. He pulled at his shirt, panicking slightly. He looked up. Riku was standing across the room, drying his hair with a towel. He was fully clothed. It looked like the stylist had come by and dressed him. He looked…cool.

His shirt was black, and it had a silver zipper, probably so it was easy to get out of. Riku seemed the type to pick a fight, and he wouldn't want to be wearing anything that would end up being a disadvantage. Over that, he wore a white vest. It was a little loose, but not to the point where he was going to get himself hooked on something. This he kept unzipped.

Sora got out of the bed, being very careful to not let Riku see that he had been embracing Kairi under the covers. He saw that there was an outfit for him spread out on the couch. It, too, was cool. He picked up the jacket and flagged it. It was black, and it had a couple of pockets.

Riku stood by the window. It was night and New York was just an amazing sight. The completely black buildings illuminated only by the lights from other buildings. The streets were still busy, and music could be heard from downstairs. The music suited the scene so well, Sora felt as if his heart would explode.

"It's so…"

Riku huffed. "Yeah, it's great." He turned away. "Get ready."

Sora looked at Kairi. He sorely wished he could crawl back into bed with her and forget about everything. He almost felt like nothing else mattered. But, the aching in his chest forced him into remembering his parents. He rubbed his head and got in the shower.

_Mom would love her. Dad would too. _Sora thought. He wanted to bring Kairi home and introduce her, but he knew that was impossible. At least until he found the Heartless leader.

When he was dressed, Sora stood at the window, fogging it up with his breath. He pulled on a pair of gloves. He assumed the stylist thought it would suit him. But he thought it was more of a fashion statement. They were a little hard to handle. Kairi and Riku sat back, conversing with each other. Sora resisted the urge to glance back. He knew Riku was watching him.

"Hey, guys?" Sora asked.

Riku stood up. "What is it?"

"Where are we going?"

Riku folded his arms. "I'm waiting for a signal. As soon as we get it, we need to make a quick stop and then we are catching a bus to Washington."

Sora nodded. "Is that why we are dressed like this?"

Riku nodded. "We are going to a club. It's rumored to be run by the Heartless leader. We'll do a quick survey and get out."

Sora nodded. Riku pulled out a cell phone from his pocket. It was vibrating. He pushed a button and shoved it back in. "Let's go. He's there."

Sora gulped. He picked up the Keyblade and put it in his pocket. It seemed to hum, but he thought it was just his imagination. He allowed Kairi to leave first. She giggled softly and quickly kissed him on the cheek before rushing after Riku.

Riku called the elevator. "I think we might be able to find out who those people were if we hit this club. I didn't tell Mick that we were stopping. As far as he knows, we are just stopping for a bite to eat. That's how it's going to stay."

Sora nodded. "Why do you lie so much?"

Riku looked away. "Force of habit, I guess. But, I never lie to hurt anyone. I wouldn't do that. It's just, there's so much red tape everywhere, I can't get anything done. I work for Mick. Just call my methods unorthodox."

He stepped into the elevator. "Besides, you are going to have to toughen up if you are going to make it. You look too soft."

Sora felt like he had been insulted, but he knew Riku was just telling the truth. Or at least appearing like he was. Sora couldn't be sure, but he was a good secret keeper. He wouldn't tell anyone about any of the lies Riku had already told. For some reason, he trusted him.

While in the elevator, Sora and Kairi kept exchanging quick glances. Sora began to wonder if she wanted to fuck him as badly as he wanted her. He blushed. Riku noticed, but didn't mention it. He shrugged it off. He was just a little more preoccupied with his mission.

This was personal for him.

The doorman hailed a taxi. "Heading out?" he asked innocently.

Riku nodded, but didn't answer him. Sora stood next to Kairi. As Riku got in the taxi, Sora leaned over.

"We need some alone time."

Kairi nodded. "At the club."

"Okay, you two." Riku said. "The place is called Heartless. Not very discrete. We will go there in separate taxis. I don't want to run the risk of being followed. I'll meet you there. You two will be posing as a couple. I'm the loner."

Sora wondered if God was actually listening to his prayers. It seemed too good to be true. Riku had paired him with Kairi. It had to be his lucky day.

Riku sat in the cab and shut the door. He had to make a quick stop before he went to the club. He had to pick up a package, and he didn't want any extra baggage. He didn't really care if Sora liked Kairi. He just had to focus on his mission.

"Do you think he knows?" Sora asked Kairi as they sat in the cab together.

Kairi shook her head. "He's going to do something. Something else. He doesn't want to tell us. And that's fine. He has a right."

Silence followed, but it didn't last very long. The taxi driver was stuck in traffic, even at such a late hour. Sora grabbed Kairi's hand selfishly. It wasn't long before they were kissing each other passionately. Sora wanted to do so many bad things to her, but he just couldn't tell if she wanted the same thing. He was happy with where he was for now, however, his carnal desires were screaming at him to go for more.

He had more self control than that. And, besides, it wasn't very classy to fuck in the back of a taxi.

* * *

Riku sat in his taxi, planning his next move. He actually needed to make two stops. This first one was going to be quick. He was waiting for the right moment to ask the cab driver to stop.

"Where you off to?"

Riku was silent for a long time. "Stop!"

The taxi screeched to a halt. Riku threw money at him and hopped out. "Meet me around the corner. Step on it!"

The taxi sped away. Riku dashed down an alleyway. His hair was flying back when he skidded to a stalk. He peered around the corner. There were two men standing at the end. They were standing next to a car, the trunk propped open. Riku could barely see plastic wrapped blocks in a duffel bag.

"Shit, man." Said one of the men. "He could've picked a place closer to a strip club. Jesus. I'm sick of this prick."

"Shut up," the other man answered. "We're just runners. He said he would be here at ten. It's only ten of. Relax."

The other man said something intelligible. Riku slid into the shadows. His eyes were on his target. The two men milled around. There were no cops in sight. Riku kept his back to the wall. The two drug runners were completely oblivious.

_They aren't very good at this. _Riku thought as he picked up a broken pipe.

The two men leaned against the car. Riku could see their guns at their sides. He paused to gather his thoughts. He breathed in. Paused. Breathed out. Paused. Silence. Then a burst of adrenaline.

He threw himself out of the shadows and hit the first guy over the head. He collapsed, and the other man pulled out his gun and fired haphazardly. The bullets flew true, but Riku was able to dodge just barely. Neither one of the two men were very coordinated. Riku hit the second man, felling him as well. He grabbed the duffel bag and snuck out of the alley to the cab that was dutifully waiting for him around the corner.

"Where to now?" the driver asked.

"Greenwich village."

As Riku walked up the street in Greenwich Village, he was constantly looking back and forth. He was making absolutely sure that he wasn't being followed. He was beginning to dislike his constant fighting lifestyle. He turned into a rundown building, though, it seemed, that every building was beginning to look rundown. He opened the elevator in the lobby and pressed a button furiously.

_I've got to get out of this. _Riku thought angrily.

He opened the elevator door with difficulty. It was a freight like elevator that was common in studio apartment buildings. The sound of the elevator returning to the ground floor echoed in the exposed rafters.

"Hello?" came a female's voice.

Riku turned around. There standing in nothing but a sheet was a woman who looked like she was in her older twenties. Her hair was black with blue laced through it. She wore lots of bangles and she looked like she could have been some kind of whore.

"Aqua."

The woman smiled. "Riku!" She sang. "What brings you here?"

Riku dropped the duffel bag. Aqua looked at it. "Been busy?"

"I just want some information."

Aqua laughed. "Oh, really?"

Riku nodded. "I need to know about the Keyblade."

Aqua's smile faltered. "Very serious, huh? May I ask why?"

Riku looked at her. "You may, but that doesn't mean I'll tell you."

Aqua shrugged. "Well, I do expect some sort of payment."

This conversation felt familiar to Riku. "I don't have any money."

Aqua motioned for him to follow her. She kept the sheet around her body, but Riku could see that she was naked. She sat seductively on a chaise lounge, and folded her legs under her. "I don't want money."

Riku looked back at the duffel bag. "I'm not giving you that either."

Aqua laughed. "I don't want your money. Or your drugs."

Riku tensed. "Then what do you want?"

"I would like the same services that I offer, offered to me." Aqua said. "Being a Madame takes its toll on your sex life in a major way."

"I'm not fucking you."

Aqua crossed her arms. "I'm not asking you to fuck me. _I _want to fuck _you_. There's a big difference, babe."

She patted the seat next to her. Riku, who was generally one to stand his ground, swallowed his pride and sat down. Aqua didn't touch him. She leaned over and picked up a small trinket.

"What do you want to know?"

Riku sighed. "I want to know all about the Keyblade. Everything you know."

Aqua thought for a moment. "Doable."

"And…" Riku added hesitantly. "I want to know if you know who the leader of the Heartless is."

Aqua sucked in a playful breath. "That's a little harder, honey. I don't know if I can help you with that one."

Riku frowned. He knew what he was going to have to do. Aqua was not lacking in attractiveness. She was very pretty, beautiful. Curves in all the right places, but Riku wasn't so sure he could sacrifice his pride like that. He was reluctant, but in New York, you had to do what you had to do to get things done.

Riku smoothly took off his vest. He let it fall to the floor. He stood up and unzipped his shirt. _Sure came in handy._ He didn't think that that was the purpose for the zipper. He scoffed inwardly at the irony.

Aqua smiled. "Don't be so eager, babe. Spend some time."

Riku relaxed. "I actually need to go somewhere."

Aqua frowned slightly. "Aww well. I could come with you."

Riku sighed. He was praying that Sora and Kairi were staying out of trouble. Aqua stood up and smirked. She dropped her sheet, exposing her nudity. Riku felt a twinge in his jeans. As much as he would have liked to say he wasn't lusting after her, that would have been a lie.

Riku gulped nervously. "Help yourself."

* * *

"Sora!" Kairi yelped.

They were squashed together, moving to the music that was blasting throughout the club. Sora was watching carefully, looking for Riku. He said that he would meet them, but he was nowhere in sight. Kairi was trying to keep his attention because many other men were looking at her, waiting for their opportunity to ask her to dance.

"Kairi, I'm looking for Riku!" Sora had to practically yell at the top of his lungs to hear himself. Kairi stayed close.

It was stiflingly hot as the mass of people moved around each other, occasionally grinding against a random guy or girl, but no one seemed to care too much. Sora was constantly moving Kairi around, keeping her away from the men that were beginning to circle closer.

One man pushed him aside. He grabbed Kairi and forced her into a gritty dance. Sora caught himself and jumped at the guy, jealousy raging. He punched him as hard as he could. The man fell back, and Sora ushered Kairi away. He had started a fight, and now it was his responsibility to see it out, but he didn't want Kairi to get hurt. He was being stupid.

"Stay here," Sora said into her ear.

"Sora, don't."

But Sora had already gone back. The guy had sought him out, and he punched him back. Harder. Sora fell to the ground. He kicked the guy's feet from underneath him. He fell into a crumpled heap and Sora jumped on him. The rest of the club dropped to a thumping silence.

"Hey, what the fuck?" The guy screamed. "I'm just trying to get some pussy. Just like you."

Sora hit him again. "Don't you talk about her like that."

The guy kicked him off. He stood up and was about to stomp his face in when Sora lashed out. He didn't know what come over him, but a powerful feeling surged through his chest and he struck at the guy with the Keyblade. He wasn't expecting anything to happen. After all, it was just a bladeless metal rod, but when the guy was sliced in half, fear and panic took over.

Axel, who had been at the Heartless club on a special mission looked up as he heard the familiar sound of blood splashing on tile. He looked up.

"Oh fuck," he said quietly. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed seven.

The crowd inside the club flew into a frenzy that could rival any Superbowl party. Sora scrambled away, completely numb. He had just killed someone. He hadn't meant to do it, but the anger he felt was so strong. And his blood was boiling. He couldn't think straight.

"Saix!" Axel said quickly. "Some fucker just used a Keyblade in public!"

Axel knew of the Keyblade just like every other member in the organization, but he had never seen one so close before. He was wondering which one it was. Perhaps Fatal Crest or Diamond Dust. Either way, everybody had to die.

Saix's voice was clear through the cell phone as the music stopped. "Seal the exits!"

Axel raced through the club, locking all the doors. The people, in their panic, couldn't figure out how to open the doors, though it was a simple as turning the lock. Axel made sure to cause as much pandemonium as possible as he sealed the club goers' fates.

* * *

Saix was furious. His yelling could be heard through the hallways. Roxas sat up. Something was wrong.

"Marluxia!"

Marluxia poked his head out from his room. "I'm busy!"

Saix choked him with one hand. The fury in his eyes was not unlike what Roxas had seen just recently, but it was much more animalistic. Roxas swallowed slowly. Something was terribly terribly wrong. Saix crushed Marluxia's head to the wall.

"You want to die right here?" Saix cried. "Do you?"

Marluxia chuckled. "I am your servant. I'll kill those idiots later then."

Saix let him go. "Heartless. Exits are sealed. Leave no one alive."

Marluxia shrieked with glee as he shed his plastic covering. There were three men tied to tables in his room. He danced around them, listening to their pitiful protests.

"I will be back," Marluxia sang. "Don't worry. I have things to take care of."

And he skirted away, scythe in hand. He disappeared through a side door and flew through the night. It didn't take him long to reach the nightclub. Muffled screams were coming from inside. Axel was standing outside, arms folded. He looked pissed. He blew out a jet of smoke.

"Smoking will kill you, Guido." Marluxia whispered.

"Fuck you, Marluxia." Axel said slowly. "Kill them all. I already took care of the few who escaped early."

Marluxia felt numb inside. "How many?"

"I dunno," Axel said as he took another drag. "A hundred. Maybe two. Have fun. Consider it a gift from a fucking idiot."

Marluxia clapped his hands together. "I love fucking idiots."

Axel approached the door and in his most commanding voice, he called through the wood. "This is the police. We are sending someone in to help you."

"Oh thank God."

Axel unlocked the door with a key he stole from the security guard. Marluxia startled most of the people inside. They backed away, giving Marluxia the room to enter. Axel shut the door behind him and locked it.

"Better start praying," Axel mumbled when he heard the first scream. He lit another cigarette. But he heard noise in the alleyway next to the club.

"Come on Kairi," Sora whispered hurriedly. "Riku is going to kill me."

"What did you do?"

Sora squealed in a high pitched voice. "I think I killed someone!"

Axel smiled. _This is way too easy._

He frowned and ruffled his hair. He dashed down the alley, crashing into trashcans and looking terrified. "Run!"

Sora looked around. "What's going on?"

Axel stopped, pretending to be out of breath. "There's a maniac in there!"

Sora kept Kairi close. "We know. We just managed to escape. Through that window."

Axel coughed. "We need to go. Before he decides to come out." He ran down the rest of the alley.

Like he had expected, Sora and Kairi followed. Axel took them far away from the club and only slowed when Sora ran out of breath. He rolled his eyes as he turned around, but made sure it couldn't be seen.

"I'm Lea," Axel said softly.

"Sora."

"What were you guys doing there?" Axel asked, concerned. "You look too young."

Sora opened his mouth, but closed it quickly. "What were you doing there?"

"I'm after the Heartless leader." Axel said confidently. "I heard he was going to be there."

"You work for Senator Mouse, too?" Sora said, astounded. He wondered just how many people worked for him now. Obviously, it wasn't just three.

"Yeah, I picked up the lead from a contact."

"Riku?"

Axel smirked, face concealed by darkness. _Way too easy._

"Yeah, but I gotta go now. I have other things to take care of." Axel backed away. "Don't tell anyone we met. I want to keep my cover."

Sora nodded. "Your secret is safe with me."

Axel backtracked to the club. It was eerily silent. "Marluxia!"

The club's side door opened. A woman crawled out. She was crying hysterically, and she was covered from head to toe in blood. Marluxia stood in the doorway, scythe at his side. The blade dripped with a trickle of blood that made Axel uncomfortable.

"Where are you going, sweetheart?" Marluxia cooed. "I'm not done with you."

"Please, don't kill me!" The woman cried. She tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but merely smeared the blood more. "I'll do anything."

Marluxia put his thumb on his chin childishly. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, yes," the woman sobbed. She was barely audible.

Marluxia stepped out. He squatted next to the woman, looked her dead in the eye and sighed. "But, you see. I had orders. Leave no one alive."

"I'm no one," the woman begged. "I'm no one. Please. I beg you. I'm no one."

Marluxia grinned. "Don't worry, love. You soon will be."

He held her face in his hands and kissed her gently. For a moment, the woman thought that her life was going to be spared. She thought that because this monster showed a familiar sign of affection, she would be able to return to her family. But, she paled when the pink demon picked his scythe off the ground and slowly slit her throat. She gurgled incoherently.

"Hush, love," Marluxia whispered. "It's almost over."

The woman died. A pool of her blood collected at Marluxia's feet. He dipped his finger in her blood and tasted it. He tried it once more before spitting it out.

"Too sweet." He said bitterly. "This one had diabetes. What a waste." He kicked her body.

Axel watched silently. "You're a sick fuck."

"You really want to go there?" Marluxia asked, wishing he would start a fight. "Really?"

Axel knew he was outmatched. "Let's go. Saix is going to flip the fuck out."

Marluxia leaned on his scythe. "Too late for that, Guido."

Axel shrugged. "Maybe I can talk him into not destroying anything."

Marluxia turned and picked up the woman's body. Axel sighed, lighting another cigarette.

"I thought you said she was too sweet."

"The trees in Central Park like sugar." Marluxia answered. "Let Saix know I'll be back soon."

"Will do," Axel said lazily.

Marluxia paused. "And could you let the three gentlemen in my room know I'll be late?"

"Whatever."

Marluxia dragged the body away. Axel strolled down the sidewalk, asking himself if all the work he was doing was really worth it. As he opened the door to the rundown house he came upon his conclusion.

_Probably not._

* * *

Saix was already throwing things all over the place. He was pissed, and he didn't look like he needed another bout of bad news. He just didn't think he would be able to hold himself back if he heard one more mistake. One more bit of plan-ruining mistake.

Axel entered with caution. Saix had left a trail of devastation behind. The refrigerators were open, food splashed everywhere. The TV in the den was completely destroyed. It looked like someone had slashed a sword through it. Axel was relieved to see the Xbox unharmed.

Axel followed the trail to Saix's room. The door was halfway open, which meant the heat sensor was broken. Saix sat in the middle of his room, staring absently at his holographic stars. Axel could see he was still trembling with rage.

"Saix?"

Saix looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. Some of the blood vessels looked like they had burst. "What is it?"

"I've got news."

"It better not be bad fucking news or you're going to die." Saix breathed.

Axel shuddered. "No. Good news, I think."

Saix looked up at him. "Well?"

"The idiot who used the Keyblade." Axel said slowly. "His name is Sora. He's traveling with a girl named Kairi and a boy, Riku. Though Riku was not there with them. They are seeking out the Heartless leader for Senator Mouse."

"Michael Mouse?"

Axel shrugged. "I guess so. Anyway. They are heading to the Greenwich Village area. I think they might be lost. What do you want me to do?"

Saix jumped to his feet. He was smiling, though there was an edge to his tone. "Call Marluxia back."

Axel scratched the back of his head. "Well, he's burying a whore. He'll be back soon."

Saix nodded. "Very well. Get Roxas, then. He needs room to train. Take him down to the Grey Room."

Axel nodded. "There's nothing in there, right? The last thing I want to do is move shit around."

Saix waved a hand. "It should be empty. If not, just use the stuff down there as practice. There isn't much time."

Axel sighed heavily before leaving. "You know…never mind."

As Axel passed the room with a curly 11 on it, he remembered what he told Marluxia. He leaned into his room. The three men were still tied up. Axel entered, being careful not to touch anything. He had no idea what kind of twisted things were lurking in the shadows. And he wasn't eager to find out.

One of the men saw him and called out a muffled plea. Axel looked at him and rasied an eyebrow.

"Uhh, your…Marluxia said he's going to be late." Axel said. "I'm sure you guys aren't going anywhere."

Axel turned around. "I didn't think he was into bondage. He don't have a dick. So, I guess you guys are fucked. Good luck."

Axel left to the much more panicked protests of the three hostages. He passed Larxene's room and was tempted to go in, but he thought better of it and knocked on Roxas's door. Roxas was on the other side, swinging Oblivion and Oathkeeper, relishing in the crisp sound that the energy made. He looked at his two weapons. They each had a shallow button on the side. Roxas looked at them, then pressed them.

Both his thumbs were pricked and he threw them to the floor. He sucked on the bleeding wounds, but not for very long. Axel had come in after knocking.

"You need to train in the Grey Room." Axel said. "Let's go."

Axel led him to the elevator. He stepped inside and pushed the button closest to the floor. It had completely slipped his mind that there were plenty of rooms below them as well. He held the Mock-Keyblades in his hands, weighing them.

"I'm gonna leave you to it," Axel said as he pushed him into a huge room.

The ceiling looked like it went on forever. It only occurred to him briefly that maybe it was an illusion. Axel kicked some stuff that was sitting in the corner down. Miscellaneous object fell out: glass beakers, thick ropes and steel bars. Nothing too important.

"Use the crap for whatever." Axel explained quickly. "I'm going to bed. I've had a long day. And I don't want to be awake when Saix freaks out again. It's bound to happen. Have fun."

Roxas set up a tower of glass. He took a few steps back and prepared. He had no idea how to use the great power that was bestowed upon him, but he sure as hell was going to by the end of the night.

* * *

Riku moaned loudly as he came. Aqua sat on top of him, controlling every bit of their sexual play a she reached her climax at the same time. She relaxed and laid on top of him, panting heavily and glistening with sweat.

"You fuck surprisingly well, hon," she whispered.

Riku didn't say anything. He had no idea that an older woman could just_ control_ him so easily. He breathed heavily as well, but wanted to prove that he had stamina. Aqua kissed him.

"Okay, as promised," she sighed. "Everything I know about the Keyblade." She paused for a moment. "Well, it was brought to us by…otherworldly beings."

Riku scoffed. "Aliens?"

"I said otherworldly, babe. Not aliens." Aqua huffed angrily.

Riku turned away as he realized that he wanted to fuck her again, but he had to focus. He had paid his debt already. But still, her body was just begging for one more go. Riku groaned softly.

"They claimed to have come from a parallel universe. A place exactly like our own, only better." Aqua said wistfully. "They gave the people there a USB full of information that we could not possibly understand. It's supposed to get the 'worlds' interconnected through Kingdom Hearts."

"And?"

"Well, I hear there are fakes. I think I remember hearing stories about how there were these guys, Unversed, that made them."

"Unversed?"

"It means 'unversed in the ways of the galaxy' or something like that." Aqua coughed quietly. "I believe that's what the Heartless gang wants. They think they could rule the world with it. But, I don't believe in that garbage anyway."

Riku sat up. "You don't?"

Aqua shook her head. "Nope. Only religious freaks believe that. I just know the stories."

"Thanks," Riku said as he stood. "That's all I need."

Aqua rolled on her back. "I could go for another round, babe."

Riku shook his head. "I can't. Maybe some other time. I have to go get my friends and leave."

Aqua smiled. "Okay, but how did you like it?"

"It was good." Riku said. "The most amazing thing I've ever experienced."

Aqua laughed. "Come back anytime."

Riku picked up the duffel bag and called the elevator. As he closed the gate and descended, he thought of Aqua's offer. He smiled to himself and suppressed a laugh.

_Maybe when this is all over, I'll come back._

**Hey, this was my first time writing a little more detailed sex. I felt dirty when I wrote that part, and took a shower right afterward. *sigh* But, I feel that writing very detailed sex for no reason takes away from the story. While I was writing this, I also thought about the most awesome and controversal plot point in the whole world. DeadShut will be hearing from me soon.**

**We hope you enjoyed this chapter, and you better come back when DeadShut sends me his chapter. Or I'll find you.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	8. Organization Ordeals

**DeadShut's Foreword:** **Hello, all! This chapter is going to take a break from Sora and co., and focus on some ordeals within the Organization…hence the chapter's name. I decided that my last chapter was flimsy and short, so this one is longer than any other chapter I've written. Also, there are some even MORE disturbing concepts being brought up here, so to those of you who're sensitive and would rather **_**not**_** read about things like, say, a man getting killed from having a scythe rammed up his asshole, feel free to heed this warning and get the Christly fuck out. Now, over to you, haji.**

**Hello. I just put this up after going over it real quick. I'm an editor by nature. DeadShut did a fantastic job with this chapter. I read it like three times just for fun. I was pleasantly surprised by certain parts. I will also be covering some things that were not explained in this chapter in the next one. However, I will be writing primarily from Sora's POV. I will jump breifly, but that is only to set up for something grand.**

**P.S: Macs rule. I'm typing on one right now, and it's like spell checking everything. Even on the internet! I've gotta get one.

* * *

**

Xigbar grinned maliciously as he took aim.

He had ten would-be victims, all bunched up together, all staring at him as he readied the tool that he would use to bring them down. He had only one shot, but if he missed, there would be a chance to try again. He _had_ to get _some_ of them down, though, right? He readied his "weapon"…

…The bowling ball made a thunderous noise as it rolled down the lane and hit all of the ten pins in an explosion of polished wood. On the screen above him, Xigbar saw a great, white "X"-stee-_rike_! Beaming with satisfaction, he turned and gave a mocking look towards Zexion, who stared at the fallen pins with a frustrated grimace and shook his head.

"They call _me_ a genius, y'know," the intellect said slowly. "But I find such wonder in your abilities, Xigbar. How the ruddy _hell_ did you do that?"

Xigbar just grinned and sat down on one of the chairs in his lane. Zexion stood up, sighed, and walked over to the lane to bowl. As he did this, Xigbar took a look around at the bowling alley, enjoying it like he had always enjoyed it. Ever since he was a kid, his parents had taken him to alleys like this one, and ever since he was a kid, he kicked ass at the sport. Much like he did with archery, hunting, and, later on in his life, assassinating. He was the best shot anyone had ever seen; why else would Manhattan's most dangerous mobsters kill each other over who got him? Xigbar was _good_ at what he did, and what he did was follow a simple equation that a majority of the world hated: ready, aim, fire.

He had served his time in Iraq as a marksman, but that was so _boring_; killing for patriotism didn't have any excitement in it. So, for laughs, he sniped his squad, and _that_ was much more satisfying…especially since he had never gotten caught. Then he came back to the States and got a hefty sum of cash from playing darts in bars. Even while drunk, Xigbar was still the best shot around. This came into the attention of more dangerous criminals, who sought his talents to use as a threat against people. It was at this time during which he had started his career as an assassin, tracking down and killing off any enemies of whoever it was that hired him. Being so deep within organized crime caused a couple of scuffles with adversaries, one being responsible for the loss of his eye, but he always recovered and continued the job. Then, Dr. Xehanort came to him, and with the other six "Founding Fathers" (now _there_ was a sort of patriotism Xigbar could stomach), he helped form the Organization. Now he was killing _Senators_…or, at least, he was supposed to.

Saix told him all about Roxas' little episode at The Met Xigbar had been pretty fucking mad, but when he arrived from the shore to tell the kid off, he was told that Roxas was downstairs training his ass off with two Keyblade-models in the Grey Room. Impressed rather than pissed, Xigbar asked about the Senator and was told that he would not be killing him anytime soon, which depressed the assassin. So, he came here to vent his frustration by beating Zexion, Axel, and Demyx in a bowling game.

Axel sat on one of the many plastic chairs in the bowling alley, deliberately disobeying the "NO SMOKING" sign by lighting two cigarettes in his mouth.

"Why the fuck are we even here?" he asked. "Don't we have, like, work to do or something?"

"You heard what Saix said," piped up Demyx quietly. He was strumming away at his guitar, as usual. "He thinks we should be getting out more. 'Specially you, Axel, all you do is play Xbox nowadays."

"Yeah, well, not anymore, thanks to Saix's hissy fit the other day. I swear, the dude flipped the fuck out. Poor Roxas probably peed his pants…Zexion, what the _fuck_ do you call this?"

Zexion had put the ball on the ground and was now pushing it with the heel of his foot. If he was an athlete, Axel was president.

"I absolutely suck at this game," the British man remarked.

Axel yawned, "At least you admit it to yourself. But, shit, we _all_ suck when playing against Xigbar. I swear, man, there are more 'X''s on that screen than in the title to a god-damn porno."

Xigbar smiled easily. Zexion sat back down, looking disgruntled. He took out a book from his jacket and began to read furiously, perhaps considering knowledge would help cool his red-hot embarrassment.

As Demyx stood up to bowl, Axel asked Zexion, "When do you think the Virus will be done, Zex-machine? Any news from Vexen?"

"Some," said Zexion, not looking up from his book. "Apparently there have been some complications in the development of making the Virus corporeal. It needs to be launched by someone who isn't fully developed, a fetus, so it can use the rapidly-combining cells to fully take over. We just don't know how to do that yet."

"…why don't you ever make eye contact with me? It's annoying."

"Why do _you_ waste my time with asinine bullshit? It's annoying."

"Because you're so damn cute when you're mad, Anal-Zex."

"I really loathe you sometimes."

"Yeah, but the Big Guy loves me. Speaking of which, when are we gonna see him again? Shit, where the fuck did he even _go_? Did he just run off to some national Jerk-Off Convention and left us to wallow in our own shit and bowl with Xigbar (those two things being pretty much the same)?"

Zexion said casually, "He'll actually be back tomorrow. Saix told me he wants a group dinner with the whole Organization, back at the Labs."

"No," said Axel immediately. "I don't want to go. I wanna try and get laid tomorrow, might even bring Roxas along to help. Little fucker's starting to grow on me."

Zexion scoffed. "You think _you're_ going to get yourself and _Roxas_ some intercourse? Perhaps you need to be reacquainted with your hand."

"Can't; I'm already acquainted with your mom's."

"Oh, for fuck's sake…You better not be like this at dinner tomorrow."

"I won't be, 'cause I'll be sitting next to Saix, and he's no fun. I swear, with the rest of you guys, I feel like I'm in Church. Except I'm not being fucked by a priest."

Xigbar looked at him in mock awe. "Did that actually happen? That would explain quite a lot…"

"Please shut the fuck up," said Zexion suddenly.

Xigbar said, offended, "The fuck? I was just _kidding_, Zexion-"

Zexion stood up and said, "I don't give a shit. Two men branded with the Heartless tattoo have just walked in."

The others turned their heads towards the entrance. The bowling alley was outside of Manhattan in the Jersey area, a bit of a ride from the Lincoln Tunnel, so the building was not a tower, just a regular-sized building. The glass doors that led into this place were being blocked by two burly men wearing all-black. Sure enough, on their necks, were small black hearts with red "X"'s going through them. In their black jeans were the holsters of pistols, but no other civilians in the alley seemed to take notice…that is, until they took the weapons out and shot them into the ceiling.

Panic. People were jumping out of their seats, looking wide-eyed at the two attackers as they grabbed a nearby couple and put the guns to their heads.

"Alright, listen up!" said one of the Heartless in his loud, booming voice that was as deep and roaring as the bowling balls that had just been rolling down the lanes. "We're looking for a Lea! Reveal yourself, Lea, or these two lovebirds die, along with the rest of the people in here!"

The Organization members turned to their red-haired smartass, whose mouth was open in surprise. Not shock; it was impossible for someone so apathetic about the world to be genuinely shocked about anything.

"What did you _do_?" hissed Zexion.

"I dunno," said Axel, shaking his head. "It'd probably be for the best if I went to see, right?"

With that he stood up. The two assailants narrowed their eyes as he approached them cautiously, his arms outstretched, feigning concern for the strangers' lives. He walked so comically and dramatically that Demyx could barely suppress a gale of laughter.

"I am Lea," spoke the fiery villain. "Who're you?"

"Come with us," spoke the Heartless man who had announced the cause of their arrival. "We've heard that you're working for a certain 'Senator Mouse', and that you went to Club Heartless last night to kill the Heartless leader. Now, _he_ wants a word with you. You're a-comin' with us."

"Wh-? Are you serious?" asked Axel angrily, more to himself than to the Heartless. Someone must've heard him in the back of Club Heartless, talking to Sora…but who? _Who_? Didn't matter; it was his own stupidity that brought this mess upon him.

"Dead serious," said the other man solemnly. "We have a van out front. You're gonna get in it, and I'mma drive you back to the city while my associate here deals with your friends."

"Ah, what a laugh," spoke Zexion, who had just come into the conversation out of nowhere. Axel figured he must've crept up as silently as a shadow.

"Who the fuck are you?" asked the second man impatiently, turning the gun on the intellect, slight fear clouding his eyes. Axel understood the effect Zexion must've had on strangers. Zexion frequently wore black, but that wasn't what made him intimidating; what made the intellectual scary was his facial features, from the narrow, peaked chin, to the blue-gray eyes that showed no emotion but almost all of the logic one could ever ask for. Those eyes were pools of knowledge, and when they stared at you, all you could feel was the sickening sensation of being a small, useless mind that contributes nothing to the world.

"Who am I? _I _am the most deplorable and corporeal nightmare you will ever experience in your entire life. You are going to drop the weapons right now, for you do not deserve to use them. Do you honestly believe you and your diminutive gang are an actual menace? You're a fad that will soon be crushed underneath our feet like the insects you truly are. _Internet pirates_, bah! You're a clusterfuck of simpletons. Be gone."

Like the "Guido" at the boardwalk, the Heartless members were lost for words at the blatant disdain that lined this man's words. For a moment, they _did_ lower their guns, which gave Xigbar time to strike.

A bowling ball soared through the air and crashed into the first man's face, dead center. The Heartless crumpled to the floor, face a bloody mess. The other man raised his pistol and shot Xigbar in the torso; the assassin fell backwards onto the polished wood of the bowling lane.

"Sonofabitch," said Axel furiously. He rolled back his sleeves, deciding it was time for the Heartless to meet his little creation. Attached to each forearm with leather straps was a narrow tube made of metal. In front of this narrow tube, taped to his wrists, were lighters. Using his middle fingers, he lit both lighters and jerked his arms forward, sending the methane gas within the narrow tubes through the flames.

The homemade flamethrowers were sufficient, throwing a streak of fire at the face of the second man. Flesh burning, this man crumpled to the floor beside his "associate". Zexion ran over to help Xigbar up, who was revealing to his friends with a grin that he had been wearing a bulletproof vest.

"Haven't taken this off in years," he informed Axel as they all ran out of the bowling alley.

"Meaning you never shower?"

The four reached Xigbar's Escalade, and Zexion popped the back hatch open. The contents of this trunk could hardly be considered legal: weapons bought from the black market of all sorts of shapes and sizes filled it in piles. Although Zexion was unlike Axel or Xigbar and did not have a hard-on for weaponry, he had to admit that he was impressed by the assassin's little collection. Axel came over and moaned with longing.

"Today's your lucky day," Zexion said, eyes darting around the trunk, searching for something he would find plausible. He gave up a second later. "We need to blow this place down. The last thing we need is to be investigated for possible collaboration with the Heartless. Now, what do you suggest-?"

"Ohhhh, I just came," said Axel as he picked up a Swedish AT4 rocket-launcher and strapped it over his shoulder. He looked at Zexion. "Start the car. The rest of you, get in, but leave a door open for me."

They obeyed; once the area was clear, Axel fired; the rocket soared through the air and crashed into the bowling alley with a satisfactory explosion of hot crimson. Marveling at his handiwork, Axel removed the weapon from his shoulder, and ran out of the parking lot and onto the highway, where his comrades awaited with the door open.

The fire killed everyone inside, and not a soul was left to testify against them.

* * *

The four men stopped at a Dunkin' Donuts and got some breakfast and coffee, sitting in an isolated booth in the corner of the area, harshly discussing about what had just occurred previously. Zexion found it troublesome that the Heartless were interfering with the Organization.

"We could have a full-fledged war on our hands soon enough," he claimed. "Which is bad. We don't need those imbeciles running around and fucking up our missions…_or_ our days off, for that matter.

"Axel, what the _hell_ was that all about, anyways? What happened?"

Axel took a sip of coffee before saying, "Well, y'see, I met up with that Keyblade-wielder the other night, right? Sora, his name was. He was apparently on a mission to weed out the Heartless leader at that club, so I said I was a part of the mission, just to gain his trust, y'know? Maybe someone heard me."

_But who?_ He thought bitterly. _Who?

* * *

_

Who had heard? Adam McLean had heard, oh yes, he had heard _everything_. He tracked down that sonofabitch redhead Ryan was with, damn right he did, and he did it even better than anyone else could, too. It was so _easy_ finding Ryan's butt-buddy, 'cause the guy stuck out like a sore thumb with that stupid dyed hair. Adam was walking towards the Ion home once he had gotten back to the city, but as soon as he had spotted his adversary, he stalked him for the rest of the day, waiting for the perfect opportunity to introduce his fiery skull to a nice, shiny bullet.

Adam McLean followed the weirdo all the way to Club Heartless, but couldn't get in since he was, after all, still a minor. Extremely pissed, McLean had sat in the alleyway beside the club until the guy came out and met up with some kid and some girl (with one helluva nice rack, McLean took note) and heard them discuss killing the Heartless leader.

What did McLean do with this information? Why, he did what he always did best: acted on his _genius_. He scheduled a meeting with some Heartless workers this morning, told them of the redhead's attempt ("Lea" he had called himself). Men were sent everywhere, and McLean was thanked by the head of the Heartless himself! Ha! He truly _was_ a genius, wasn't he?

Now, at 10 o'clock in the morning, Adam McLean was lounging in the kitchen of the apartment that belonged to the Ions. His revolver was in his hand, fully-loaded with six bullets. At first, back in D.C., the weapon had felt heavy; now it was as light as a feather. In fact, it felt almost like it was a_part_ of McLean. He enjoyed this, much like he enjoyed this entire mission of his.

Many times, on his bus ride here, he had thought about _why_ he was doing this. Then, he realized the answer was so simple that any idiot could figure it out: because he was the best, and because he _could_. Who would stop him? Hall? Yeah, right. McLean would like to see him try. He was the best of the best, but Ryan seemed to not get the hint when Adam had kicked his ass in that essay contest.

He would get the hint now. Oh, yes, he would.

He heard voices approaching the room, and the crack underneath the front door now had thin shadows under it. McLean sat up in the chair, smile spreading easily on his face. He aimed the revolver at the door and kept silent, listening to the conversation on the other end.

"…and so they served me an apple strudel next, and _that_ was pretty good," spoke the young Ion bitch. "And I told them I liked it so they showed me how to make it."

"Nice!" said an older woman. This was the voice, McLean remembered, of Mrs. Ion.

"Maybe you can show us how to make it," said a man; Ion's father. The man was closest, inserting a key into the door. It clicked as it unlocked, and the doorknob turned slowly. McLean rushed over and put his back against the wall on the side of the door; Mr. Ion walked in without noticing. Then came Mrs. Ion, carrying her daughter's suitcases. Then in came Lily.

Lily Ion was beautiful, as Ryan Hall would say; to Adam McLean, she was "hot". He wasn't remotely interested in anything but her appearance and the thoughts of what he could do to her sexually. Most people are like this to the opposite sex, but to an extent. If McLean was best at everything, that included perversion.

They put the girl's bags on the kitchen table, and McLean shut the apartment door as loudly as he could. All three Ions turned with a jolt.

"Who the fuck are you?" asked Mr. Ion, voice loud with surprise.

"Adam!" Lily said, shocked. "What're you doing here?"

McLean smiled and said, "It's 'Pete' now, dear."

And with that, he raised the pistol.

Although McLean was an amateur with weapons, he had a lucky first shot; the bullet tore at Mr. Ion's throat. Crimson blood sprayed the refrigerator like a hose from Hell, and the man went down, gobbling like a turkey. McLean laughed.

"Lily!" Mrs. Ion shrieked. "Run!"

This plea was the woman's final words, for "Pete" McLean took her life a second later with a bullet to the temple. The woman fell like a sack of potatoes, not a single word.

The Ions were the only ones on this floor, and one of the last ones in this building; the apartment building was being sold to a company, and most of the residents were gone.

Fate had, yet again, extended its brutal hand to help McLean in his mission.

Lily Ion stared at her dead parents, mouth open. McLean turned the gun on her, and took out a package of rope from his back pocket and said, "Sit on the chair, baby."

Lily, tears pouring out of her eyes, obeyed. McLean looked at those salty tears run down her smooth, cream-colored face, and felt himself getting a hard-on already. _Man_ was she hot…such soft skin, such innocence…an innocence that he was about to take from her.

He doubted Ryan had ever fucked her. The kid was too wimpy, not strong, not _the best_.

"Open your mouth," demanded McLean in a whisper.

"Adam…"

"I told you it's 'Pete', sugar-tits, now open your mouth."

She sucked him dry, and once she was done, he introduced her to other horrors, and nobody outside the apartment was none-the-wiser.

* * *

Roxas emerged from the Grey Room, covered in sweat, determination carved upon his face like he was made of wood…which is how he felt. He went upstairs, through the lobby, and into the kitchen. He took his shirt off (although he had next to nothing to show off and nobody to show off to), opened up the fridge and took out some Hawaiian Punch and chugged it. He had been working out all night, pumping up ceaselessly, training with _Oblivion_ and _Oathkeeper_, and today he felt like a champion. He hadn't seen anyone at all today, and wondered if he was here alone.

Oh, wait, nope. Axel came into the kitchen, looking worse for wear.

"What's up?" asked Roxas.

"Heartless," snorted Axel. "They attacked us. I don't feel like going into the details." The redhead threw a magazine on the kitchen table before going on a fridge-raid himself. "Look, you're popular."

Roxas looked. It was a real estate magazine, but on the back cover he saw his most recent school picture, with bold text underneath: **Have you seen this boy?** It gave information on the abduction. "_If found, please contact the Hall family at…_"

"Oh, fuck them," he said loudly.

Axel had poured himself a glass of root beer and was now nonchalantly dunking chocolate chip cookies into it. "I could've sworn you once said you hated your parents, or they hated you, or something."

"They do. But they don't wanna look like they killed me or something. Damn, this'll make it hard to go on missions."

"Fuck up missions, you mean," corrected Axel through a mouthful of soda and cookies.

"Fuck you, man," Roxas retorted. "If you'd been through what I have, you'd have done the same fucking thing. I absolutely _hate_ that sonofabitch McLean…"

Axel laughed heartily. "No need to be defensive. You think I personally give a shit that you fucked up at the Met? Nah, man, I was just pissed because you could've gotten _me_ in trouble. Feel free to fuck up on your own, I don't care; just don't bring _me_ into it. Commit that to memory."

"Fine, whatever."

The door to the kitchen opened again, and in came Zexion. He looked directly at Roxas and said, "Come with me. It's time for your lessons to begin."

"Lessons? Wha-?"

Impatiently, Zexion said, "You need more than just physical training to be fit for this Organization, Roxas. Come with me." The intellectual turned and walked out of the room.

"Good luck, buddy," said Axel with a wink. "Hopefully you won't have to anally probe a cat on your first day like I did."

"Wh…Are you serious?" asked Roxas, laughing.

Axel joined in. "No, but fuck it, Zexion doesn't like you so you'll probably end up doing something just as revolting."

"Like fucking your mother?"

"No, like _me_ fucking my mother's…corpse, since she's dead."

They grinned at each other. It wasn't some special moment, no soft music playing in the background, but in that exchange of happiness, the two men became friends.

Roxas turned and followed Zexion through the door.

* * *

Zexion's room lacked holographs. In fact, it lacked numerous things, one example being a bed.

When you went through the door with a little number 6 on it, you ended up on a metal platform that lined the walls of the pentagonal room and hung high above the concrete floor below. Nothing was on this platform-section of the room except for a couple of boxes. Everything else was downstairs, on the floor. Zexion and Roxas went down a series of metal stairs that looked like they were stolen from a fire escape. This main-segment of Zexion's room was illuminated by a series of metal lamps that hung from the ceiling. Underneath the platforms was a bit darker, as if the middle of the room was like the center of a stage, the lamps being the spotlight. Around five bulky tables, also concrete, were scattered around the room: one had a series of vials and beacons, some full of different chemicals, others empty-a sink was also built into this table, and it was currently running steamy water; a second table contained piles upon piles of open and closed books; the third table, close to the second one, was covered in papers upon which Zexion had taken numerous notes; the fourth table was much like a maintenance table, with a bunch of tools lying on it; the fifth and final table was totally clear and placed in front of a chalkboard.

"Welcome to your classroom for the next couple of days," said Zexion. "Have a seat at the empty table, and I will be with you momentarily."

Roxas did so, and watched as Zexion opened up a door he had not seen before, to another room with a dark red interior and a fireplace clearly visible. Zexion reemerged a second later with a large book in his hand, which he placed in front of Roxas on the table. Roxas looked down to see the title of the book: _The Human Mind_. Over a thousand pages. It was as heavy as a brick. Roxas looked up to see Zexion writing the same three words on the chalkboard.

"Define this," said Zexion, throwing the chalk onto the little holder beneath the blackboard.

"Define what?"

"The human mind. Define it!"

Roxas, put on the spot, stuttered, "I, uh, I dunno…the…the brain, I guess? No…"

Zexion put his hands on the table and leaned forward, looking at Roxas through his spectacles.

"The human mind," he said through grit teeth. "It's the most powerful thing on this planet, and probably the third-most powerful thing in the galaxy, the second being gravity, the first being the sun. The human mind is responsible for every luxury you own, for every weapon used to conquer, for every political movement, and for every joyous emotion you've ever experienced. The human mind is the bringer of miracles, but also the bringer of disasters. With split-brain syndrome, the brain can make a man strangle himself. Did you know that?"

"N-no, I didn't know that…"

"Every last thing in this world, you owe thanks to the human mind for," continued Zexion. "There is no God. _We_ are the Gods, Roxas. Or, at least, our minds are. Many people abuse their gifts." He tapped his temple. "And prefer to work on such useless feats, such as…" He flexed his arm, showing a tiny muscle. He tapped this as well. "Today's society is run by brutes, brawny folks with no brains. The Organization is made up by people who loathe these mindless insects, for we _do_ have brains. I will admit, Roxas, that you seem to fit in well with us, even though I don't necessarily trust you."

"Now wait just a minute-"

"Unfortunately," Zexion continued, as if he hadn't heard his student speak. "It's the brawny people who rule the world. However, something as petty as a _slightly_ intellectual or philosophical piece of thought can turn their worlds upside down, make them cry for their mothers, urinate their pants. Why? Because the majority of this world's _minds_ are so narrow and shallow that anything deeper than everyday concepts formed by conformists is like a behemoth to them. And why shouldn't it be?" He paused for Roxas to answer.

"No idea, sir."

"Doesn't matter; give me an answer."

"Because deep thoughts, or 'behemoths', are what progress humanity. Isn't that right? So _everyone_ should be given them, even if it pains them."

Zexion smiled triumphantly. "I may have underestimated you, Roxas Hall. Yes, people _need_ to know that things go deeper than just modern society's pop icons or interesting products. A whole _world_ is around them. I believe that each human mind is worth more than all the currency in the world, but I see so many of them wasted on such trivial and irrelevant things. Everyone should bring new ideas to the table, but since most people are too busy doing things that don't even _matter_ instead of coming to the table, the Organization must find Kingdom Hearts. It is for the greater good.

"Your brain, and mine, and almost everyone else's, each has about enough blood vessels within them to circle the world four times."

"This is actually making my head _hurt_," remarked Roxas, running a hand through his spiky hair.

Zexion scoffed. "Hopefully you're not in as much pain as those who suffer from Exploding Head Syndrome, in which they not only hear, but _feel_ a tremendous 'explosion' in the middle of their head."

"You really know a lot about this stuff."

"And soon, you will, too. You need to read this book, Roxas, and read it carefully. You will come back here when you've finished the first chapter, then when you've finished the second, and so on and so forth. We will discuss the chapter, and you will open your mind to the utter beauty and anarchy of the human mind. Now, 'class dismissed', as they used to tell us back in school."

"Thank you, sir."

Roxas left Zexion's room and went into his own. On the table next to his bed, he saw that his cell phone was ringing. Not the one given to him by the Organization; his old one, the one he had been "kidnapped" with. Blocked caller ID. Intrigued, he picked up the phone.

* * *

"Open up," Marluxia whispered to one of his three hostages. He was holding a palm full of seeds in his hand, up to the man's mouth. The man obliged, and Marluxia put them in. "Swallow." The man did so.

"Let us go, huh?" said the ringleader of this trio who tried to rape his captor just a day ago. "This is fucking weird, man."

"Oh, shut it," replied Marluxia, watching the man he had just fed the seeds to. He asked him, "Do you know what I just fed you?"

The man was crying. He shook his head.

"I've just fed you apple seeds. Apple seeds containing a shitload of cyanogenic glycosides. Too many can be deadly. I fed you enough to get you very, very sick, but not enough to kill you. You need to tell your friend over there to apologize for what he tried to do to me, or I will feed you more. You can try to resist, but then I'll fucking rip you open."

The guy shrieked, "Mike, just _apologize already, man_!"

"Fuck, no!" said the ringleader. Marluxia stared at him. "This guy should be apologizing to _me_! You don't just fucking tie me up!"

"Actually," said Marluxia in his lofty voice. "I already did."

The third man was also crying, and Marluxia went to him next. The man winced and began to tremble. He truly was frightened. Marluxia smiled and caressed this man's face with the back of his hand. The man whimpered.

"Please, don't kill me, mister," he pleaded. "Please, don't. I know what we did was awful, dreadful, even, but you don't have to kill me for it."

"Fuck you!" said the ringleader to his friend. "Fuck you, asshole!"

The man did not look at him, only at Marluxia. Marluxia stared at him back, mind racing.

The psychotic sonofabitch then said, "Fine, then. I will let you go. But for one reason and one reason only: I need you to alert the authorities of my reappearance. Tell them Marla Shift returns, and any man who is in the New York P.D will have their families, children and all, targeted. You will also never venture into Central Park or go to Luxia again or, so help me God, I will chop off your dick, sew it between my legs and fuck you with your own dick before slitting your throat."

"Oh, my God," croaked the man. "I p-promise not to go anywhere near it. I'll leave the city, go out into the c-country."

"Good," Marluxia smiled. He cut the bonds on this man. The man's sobs instantly sobered, and he grinned maliciously. Marluxia frowned, puzzled, and did not expect what happened next: the man kicked his shins, trying to trip him.

"Hold still, darlin'," said the sociopath. Marluxia fell to the floor, his heart racing in a panic. "I just want a good romp before I leave. Nobody ties _us_ up."

It was an act, the whole thing was an _act_, and Marluxia had fallen for it…

The man was confident, thinking he could take down this peculiar "bitchy" man, but he was not expecting Marluxia to be so strong. The serial killer took the man off of him in seconds, and soon the man was stumbling back against the wall. Marluxia pulled out a small black rod from his belt, and clicked a button on it; it extended, and Marluxia banged it on the ground and a blade came out of the tip. The high-tech scythe gave him the upper hand, and he pressed the tip of the blade at the sociopath's throat.

"Take off your pants," Marluxia demanded.

"Fuck you!" spat the sociopath, but did so anyways.

"Turn around, bend over."

The act of sticking a scythe up another man's ass may seem slightly homoerotic, but Marluxia was doing it to hurt, not to pleasure. The blade ripped up into the man, and he screamed louder than anything Marluxia had ever heard. The other two screamed protests, as if Marluxia were cheating in a game of football and not killing their friend in the worst way imaginable. The tip of the curved blade popped out of the man's stomach, and he went limp, dead without dignity.

"Who's next?" asked Marluxia politely.

* * *

Roxas answered the phone.

"Ryan?"

"Lily!" he said, chest roaring with thunderous happiness. "You're back, babe! How was your trip?"

"Ryan," she said again, voice trembling. "Please, help…"

He frowned. "Lily? What's up?"

Something on the other line was happening, some quick movement…the phone was being handed to someone else.

"Hello, Hall," said the voice of Adam McLean, a voice that Roxas despised but right now feared, for it sounded lower, deeper, less obnoxious and more inhuman.

"Adam?" he asked dumbly. "Wha…?"

"I have your little girlfriend here at her apartment. I've just fucked her in all directions, Ryan, and I have a gun to her head."

Roxas' mouth had gone dry, but he managed to say, "You sonofabitch."

"Come to her apartment in one hour, at High Noon. It's time we've settled this once and for all."

McLean hung up.

Roxas ran for the kitchen to get his Keyblades.

* * *

**That's all for now. But, I'll return shortly. Need to type.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	9. Second Offer

**Hello, hello. Haji here! I'm very pleased with how this turned out. I worked hard on this, and then the most amazing thing happened half way through. I got an idea for my other series.**

**Raise the roof! I know how I'm going to end it. However, the chapters will be short. Sorry.**

**Anyway. Enjoy. :)**

* * *

"Hello, D.C!"

Sora leapt off the bus, excited, as he had never been to Washington before. He had spent the better half of a six hour road trip next to Kairi, sleeping. And when he had woken up at a gas station a little farther north, her head was on his chest, and his heart was thumping. Riku had sat alone with his duffel bag.

Riku looked almost as tired as he felt. Dark rings formed under his eyes as he hopped off the bus. "Okay, we need to head to the National Mall."

Sora frowned. "Why? You need to sleep."

Riku yawned. "I'm meeting a contact. He'll provide us with a place to crash. He's owes me that fucking much."

Kairi looked at him. She had her suspicions, but didn't want to say anything. She didn't want to bring it up and find out it was false. Then Riku would never trust her. It had taken years to earn that trust in the first place.

They had grown up on the same street. Kairi was in the more privileged areas of The Bronx, while Riku lived closer to the Warzone. They met up with each other frequently, since Riku was often sent on errands by the gangs in his area. He was bred to fight and defend. Steal, kill, and run. He was constantly running drugs to other parts of New York. Police never suspected a child to be tough enough to delve so deep into that world.

Riku learned quickly that he had to fight to survive. He had to strike deals and pay debts, and he became well connected, being able to cut deals with some gangs while double crossing others. He was very street conscious, and only recently took to physically selling drugs. Though he used them more as leverage than anything else.

Kairi's role was usually the lookout. She had given Riku a place to hide when he was unable to keep up with the game. They had developed a friendship as Riku hid, and that developed into a partnership as he got better. Kairi's parents weren't so eager to have a drug runner in their house, so they tossed Kairi out on the streets that she had fallen in love with.

Riku, feeling so bad about what he did, promised her that he would set her up. That was three years ago, and he was still working on it. But, he would never let Kairi know just how much he was sacrificing to get this done.

Sora looked around. The streets of D.C. were much cleaner. The trash was picked up, the sidewalks swept and washed. And everybody was wearing a business suit. "Who are we looking for?"

Riku sat down in the grass. The National Mall was vast, stretching from the Capitol building to the Lincoln Memorial. Museums lined each side, displaying flags for up coming events and exhibits. People from all walks of life traveled up and down the mall, taking pictures, and posing next to statues. Police patrolled everywhere. After all, they _were _in the nation's capital.

"He'll find us." Riku said. "He's probably hanging back for awhile. You're new to this, Sora. He just wants to see if you're alright."

Sora looked around, studying each person briefly. "But, what if…?"

Riku sighed. "Stop being such a pussy. If he thinks it's all right to talk to us, he'll let us know."

"Is it one of Mick's guys?"

Riku huffed and crossed his arms. "Not quite."

Kairi looked at him. "You're going behind Mick's back?"

Riku turned away. "He doesn't know everything about me, no. I have to do things on my own sometimes. If he gets involved, we are all royally fucked. I'm drawing a line between me and my thing and him. He's not even supposed to be doing this, so I don't think he'll mind. I'm not killing anyone…yet."

Sora cringed. Riku had mentioned killing. He still didn't tell him about what had happened at Club Heartless. He didn't look like he was in the mood to hear about him blowing their cover. And he begged Kairi not to say anything. She agreed, but only if he told him soon.

He grasped the Keyblade in his pocket. It hummed. He could swear that it was louder than it actually was, but he had asked Kairi if she heard anything, and she hadn't. He shook his head, and the humming dimmed. He rubbed his eyes, trying to ward away the fatigue. He wasn't sure why, but he had been overwhelmingly tired lately. It was like his brain wouldn't shut off.

"Excuse me," came a meek sounding voice.

Sora turned around. A young blond boy was standing behind him. He smiled softly, but Sora could see there was something eating at him. His blue eyes seemed dim. Dark. Betraying.

Riku stood up. "I come bearing gifts."

The blond boy turned to him. "Then, I think a handshake is in order." He glanced around. "I wouldn't want to insult your culture."

Riku scowled. "Always wanting payment," he shook the boy's hand.

The boy blew his nose, but Sora thought he heard a distinct sniffing sound. He threw his head back sharply.

"Fuck!"

Riku smiled. "I think it deserves a personal visit."

"Jesus man," the blond boy sounded suddenly like a man in his twenties. "Where the fuck…?"

Riku nodded his head. They were obviously having a very different conversation than the one they were showing. Sora smiled, too, trying to keep up with what was going on.

Riku and the blond man walked together. "I'm paying some debts. But, it needs to be personal. I thought you could arrange some kind of exchange."

"I'll see what I can do." The blond man said. "But, I want a block."

The blond man escorted them to a small regal looking building that wasn't that far away from the mall. He knocked on the door, but went around the back of the small house-like structure. He frowned the whole time. It was probably because Riku had rejected his request. To Riku, there was no way he was compromising his deal by letting someone else have any of his precious commodity.

The blond man grumbled as he led them to a living room. Sora coughed, but not because there was cigar smoke everywhere, but because the white dust that wafted through the air was tearing at his lungs. He waved his arm, swatting away the invisible cloud of debris.

Across from the door, sat a man. He was a little bit older than the blond man that had guided them their, but he looked much tougher. His hair was dark and it was pulled into a tight ponytail on back of his head. It poked up, making it look like his hair was spiked from the back. He had his eyes closed and was leaning over the edge of the couch, moaning softly. Nestled between his legs was a small woman, barely out of her teens. Her head bobbed up and down slowly.

The blond man looked away, blushing furiously. He was jealous. Sora followed suit, but he didn't blush because of jealousy. His face turned red because he felt dirty looking at somebody doing something so…intimate in front of other people. Riku cleared his throat.

"Hold on," the man grunted.

Riku crossed his arms. The man groaned. He panted for just a second before he pushed the woman's head away and zipped up his pants. "Get the fuck out, bitch."

The woman stood up, looking humiliated. Her hair was short and blond, just like the man's, and she whimpered as she left.

The blond man turned back to him. "Terra, I brought them here to…"

"Shut the fuck up, Ven," Terra growled. "Did I ask you why they're here?"

The blond man, Ven, sucked in an angry breath. Terra ignored him and looked at Riku, holding his arms out. "Riku! Buddy!"

He stood and thumped Riku on the back. "Haven't seen you in a long time!"

Riku shrugged away. "I brought you something. To repay a debt. And I need a place to stay for the night."

Terra patted him. "Of course. Of course. That's the least I could do." He looked at Sora and Kairi. "Friends of yours?" He seemed bitter.

Riku nodded. "Sora and Kairi. We are working together for now. I don't intend for them to stick around too long."

Terra smiled. "Fair enough. The girl looks sound. As for…Sora? I'm a little ancy around him if you know what I mean. You know how I get when I get ancy."

Riku pushed him. "He's legit. I picked him to work with."

Terra smirked. "Oh, really?"

Riku nodded. "Look. I just want to pay my debt and crash for the night. Then, you never have to see me again."

Terra walked up to Sora, looking him up and down. "What's your game?"

Sora shrank away, though he tried to not be so obvious about it. "My game?"

Terra nodded. "Drugs? Guns? What?"

Sora tried to look past him, but Terra kept trying to keep his eye contact. "Uhh…" His mind fumbled for a second.

"Computers."

Terra leaned away, laughing. "Riku? Computers?"

Riku smirked. "I know. Not…"

"I doubt that, Riku," Terra said, turning to him. "You were never into computers, Riku. I should know." He glanced back at Sora. "You're a terrible liar, Riku."

Riku tensed. He was tired, and Terra was probably going to drag this out. That's what he always did. Even when he was just a captain in New York.

"Look, Terra." Riku sighed. "I brought you what you wanted. Just let me go now."

Terra smiled. "Sure. You are my favorite runner after all. Go ahead, Riku and friends. I'll let you stay here. I'm open to hospitality. Just, don't touch nothing, Suburb."

Sora frowned as he realized Terra was talking about him. "Okay."

Terra wrapped an arm around Riku as he led them to another room. "We need to talk, bud. But, I'll let you rest now. It's about something that happened today. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. But, I want everything cleared up tomorrow, kay?"

Riku nodded. He flopped on the empty couch and closed his eyes, not concerning himself with any of the amenities that Terra had offered. He was royally fucked. And he knew it.

* * *

It was dark. Human eyes were not suited for this kind of deprivation.

"Zack?"

"I'm here, Skylar."

"I'm scared."

"I know." Silence. "Me too."

Although they couldn't see it, Zack and Skylar O'Reiley were lying on hard metal tables, kept in place by thick leather straps. They each had IVs in their arms, feeding them fluids. They only knew that they had opened their hotel door to find that Sora wasn't there, then they next thing they knew, they were hit over the head and taken.

Vexen stood on the other side of the observation glass. He was scratching his wrist. There were the beginnings of a gauntlet there. It was an iridescent blue, and the skin underneath was red raw. The bags under his eyes were haunting.

"I've come to see if you have news."

Vexen turned away from the glass. Zexion was climbing down the stairs. He looked slightly annoyed, but he kept his composure.

"So far, I have deprived them of their most basic needs. They have gone without food, drink and many other luxuries for at least three days now. They are solely riding on hope. However, they are tough. Strong. I do believe I picked good subjects."

"Have you done anything yet?"

Vexen shook his head. "I extracted their blood and introduced the virus to it. We don't have time for the entire incubation period, so I'm introducing it with their blood. It would cause the body to not react so quickly."

Zexion hummed an agreement. "When will you be running the test?"

Vexen frowned. "I was about to start now. You may join me if you like."

Zexion pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. "I shall. I'm interested to see how this one will turn out. Hopefully better than the last."

Vexen snorted. "Hope. Such a trivial thing that is surprisingly powerful. I just don't understand it."

Zexion sighed. "Merely an expression, my friend."

Vexen pulled out two small vials of blood from a small incubator. They were clearly labeled with a thick marker. He sucked the blood into two syringes and, with Zexion, opened the door to the small observation room.

"Who's there?" Zack said as angrily as he could.

Zexion flipped on the light. "You have no right to be so brave…" He looked at the clipboard at the foot of the table. "Zack O'Reiley. Blood type AB…Completely clean. I'm surprised."

Zack arched his neck to look at Zexion, but the light burned his eyes. He hadn't even realized he was in the dark until the light was turned on. "Surprised? What do you mean surprised?"

Zexion picked up Skylar's chart. "Usually men like you are contaminated with a variety of toxins and diseases. I was mildly surprised to see you so clean. Need I explain it further?"

Zack closed his mouth.

"What do you want with us?"

Vexen unhooked the IV from Zack's arm. "We want to borrow you for a short amount of time. If everything goes according to plan, you will be released unharmed. If not, you won't have to worry about anything anymore."

Zack tried move away from the syringe Vexen was forcing into his arm.

"Zexion," Vexen said calmly. "Please take notes. I want to have something for Superior. I heard he's coming tomorrow?"

Zexion picked up a pen and flipped a notebook open. "Yes, for dinner." He watched Zack carefully. "Slight trembling in lower extremities."

Vexen pulled a cloth mask over his mouth. He opened Zack's eyes and probed his mouth with a small metal instrument.

Zexion tapped his pen to the clipboard. "Discoloration of skin in nonlinear fashion. Small loss of blood due to fusion of toes."

Zack opened his mouth and wailed. It was loud, echoing, and it raised even the hair on the back of Zexion's neck. He shivered the uncomfortable feeling away, regaining his studying eye. "Loss of identifiable words."

"Zack!" Skylar screamed. "Let him go! Please!"

"Loss of object permanence." Zexion noted when Zack didn't so much as look at his wife.

Vexen held Zack's head in place. Zack twisted his neck back and forth wildly, trying to escape the prickling feeling that covered him from head to toe. He howled louder, only being physically able the shout two words.

"MY HEAD!"

"Zack, I am Dr. Vincent Redman. You will listen to the sound of my voice and obey what I tell you. Do you understand?"

Zack, though still howling, nodded erratically.

"Understands human speech."

Vexen raised his voice as Zack began to thrash about violently. "You will calm down and tell me your name."

"MY HEAD!"

"You will calm down and tell me your name."

Zexion remained silent. Zack thrashed around for only a minute longer before he belted out once more. He held such a loud howl, that the blood vessels in his eyes popped. Not even a second later, his skin rippled, and deflated, blood splashing out like muddy water. His head exploded, spraying both Vexen and Skylar with bits of gray brain matter.

Silence followed. It was so sudden, it seemed to have a buzz of its own. Skylar was shocked, she didn't even scream. She merely sobbed.

"Zack…" she whimpered. "Zack! Please. You need to care for your son!"

Zexion jotted down the last his notes as Vexen grabbed a collection of various beakers and hurled them across the room. "God damn it!"

"There is no God, Vexen."

Vexen threw another beaker and it smashed against the observation glass. Zexion wiped his face quietly. He looked at Skylar and approached her, making sure not to step in any of the chemicals that Vexen was spewing from his broken beakers.

"You asked him to come back," Zexion said. "Just now. What did you mean?"

Skylar relaxed, too tired to strain against the leather straps. "Our son."

"I'm well aware of your son, Sora."

"No, he was going to…"

"Be a father again?" Zexion offered.

Skylar huffed. She nodded weakly.

"How far along are you?"

Skylar shuddered and teared up again. "I was going to tell him on our date. Four weeks. He would have been so happy."

"Vexen," Zexion said softly. Vexen stopped and turned around. Zexion glanced at him. "This woman just said she was pregnant."

Vexen instantly calmed. "Really?"

Skylar nodded.

Vexen left hurriedly. After he did not return for a whole five minutes, Zexion sighed heavily and cleaned up the lab. He ignored Skylar's trauma induced babbling and left after he was finished. He glanced back at Skylar and frowned as he flipped the light off, much to Skylar's dismay.

* * *

Riku cracked open his eye. He saw Sora and Kairi sleeping in chairs across the room. His head pulsed harshly. All night, he had been concerned with whatever it was that Terra wanted. Though he had sounded friendly, Riku knew better.

He was going to end up killing someone. He never just allowed something to pass, even if he said everything was okay, because in actuality, it wasn't. He sat up slowly.

The same blond woman that had been sucking Terra off was then nestled in between his legs. She was slowly unzipping his pants, trembling lightly.

Riku pushed her away. "What are you doing?"

The woman looked up at him. She forced herself to look mean, but Riku could see she was a gentle soul. "I'm being hospitable."

Riku shook her by her shoulders. "Look…?"

"Namine."

"Namine." Riku said. "You don't belong here."

Namine pulled away from him. "You don't understand."

Riku stood. "I think I do. You need to get out while you still can. Once Terra has you, you will never be able to escape."

"Like you?"

Riku crossed his arms and glanced at Kairi. "Like me."

Riku sighed and dropped his shoulders. He was beginning to fall into a depression. He had been for a long time, but he thought that he would be able to pull himself out of it, even if he had to claw his way out. Appeasing Terra's taste in powerful drugs was only the first step. Diz was next.

But he had no idea what he was going to do about that.

He snuck out of the room with Namine, all but begging her to escape, but she would only huff and look away. She explained that she owed Terra because he was paying for her art school. She figured that being his sexual slave for the next four years wouldn't be that bad. She could take care of herself.

Namine cracked the door open to the living room, where Terra and Ven sat on the couch. Ven was counting money while Terra watched impatiently. Across the room sat two other men that Riku hadn't noticed the day before.

Terra looked up and smiled. "Morning, Sunshine."

Riku nodded is answer.

Terra stood. "By the way, that's Cloud."

One of the men at the table looked up quickly. His full head of blond hair drooped in some places. He looked like he had been up all night. "Yo."

"Best cutter I've ever had," Terra said proudly. "Hence his name. And the other is Leon."

The man, whose hair was brown, looked up. He was holding a small scoop and tiny bags. "Yo."

"Best bagger."

Terra put his arm around Riku's shoulder, much like he had the day before. Riku looked away from him, not wanting to resurface any memories from his rough upbringing in New York. Terra had been his captain when he was first recruited. He had taken a liking to him and promised that, one day, they would be partners. Riku didn't believe it. Terra used people to his benefit and rarely kept his promises.

"I only want the best." Terra said. "You are one of the best, Riku."

Riku stayed silent.

Terra pushed him lightly. "Loosen up, kid. I'm giving you a complement."

He flopped on the couch and lit a cigar. He blew the smoke right in Ven's face. "These are the best cigars on the market, you know that?"

Riku shook his head.

"Well, they are. Cost me a hundred thousand each." Terra blew another jet of the thick smoke. "I can only afford them because of my illustrious profession. Which brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about last night."

Riku seized up, but didn't let Terra see he was scared. That would only add to his leverage.

"I heard from a supplier in New York that you were talking to this 'Lea' guy."

Riku furrowed his brow. "Lea?"

"Uh-huh." Terra groaned in annoyance. "You see, this supplier says you are working for Senator Mouse, and that you are trying to help Lea kill the Heartless leader. That's a big problem for me."

Riku shook his head. "I don't know a Lea."

Terra held up a hand. "Did I say you could speak?"

Riku closed his mouth.

"The Heartless, let me tell you, are not happy about that. They want you. And your little posse. They know I had connections to you, and they are threatening my business."

Riku visibly shook.

Terra leaned forward. "Listen, I trust you. I can have my way with you whenever I want, but if you're going to betray me, I want you to be the one to tell me so."

Riku shook his head. "I don't know a Lea. I never did. Whoever he is, he is lying."

Terra smiled. "I thought so. But, my business is still being threatened. I just needed to know if I had to kill you, or wage a war with them." He paused. "It looks like New York is about become a battlefield."

Riku flushed. "There's no need for a war. I thought you abandoned New York when you moved here."

Terra laughed heartily. "Can't run an empire if I don't invade anyone, right?"

Riku bristled. "Terra, stay out of it."

"Listen, Riku," Terra said, still smiling. "I want you to be my new second. I know I offered this to you a while ago, but you declined my offer. We could do real damage, you and I."

Riku looked down. "Ven's your second."

Terra smirked. "But he also wanted to take some of the coke you brought for me. That's a no-no. Which means…"

He pulled out a shiny pistol from a holster and shot Ven through the head. Blood sprayed on the boarded window. "The position needs filling."

Riku shook his head. "I can't—"

"I know you have your little, thing, that you do." Terra said, placing the gun on the table. "I'm not asking you to stay. Just, be my second. Then you can set up your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"But you owe her something."

Riku paused.

Terra smiled. "The offer will stand until this afternoon, but I'm sure you want to see what D.C has to offer. Just come back later with your answer. I'll wait."

Sora gasped quietly and backed away from the door. He couldn't believe what he just heard. He snuck back into the room that had been provided for them and feigned sleep. Riku came in shortly afterward. He nudged them awake.

"Come on," he said quickly. "We've gotta meet Mick."

* * *

**I want to hear what you think Riku did. I think it's pretty obvious.**

**I have to go set up the most epic of all endings now. BYE!**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	10. High Noon

**Hello, it's Haji. DeadShut did not leave an author's note this time, so I will write one. He wrote this chapter! YAY!**

**To all those who hate rapists, rejoice! For Pete is doomed to meet his fate, though not in the way you would expect. DeadShut did a fantastic job with this. I'm sure he would tell you the same thing.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

12:00.

Lily Ion's apartment building was rather short, and good portions of its exterior were either falling apart or covered heavily in graffiti. It looked like a battlefield, and rightfully so, for today there would be much blood spilled within this structure. Roxas knew this as he ran towards the building; the feeling was much like a premonition. McLean, the person he hated more than anyone on this earth, was in possession of his girlfriend, and she was either dying or already dead…that part wasn't so much a premonition as it was a hysterical fear. Why couldn't McLean have taken Roxas's parents, who were shitty people anyways? Why did it have to be Lily, the most beautiful creature to ever walk God's green Earth, within the clutches of this homicidal suck-ass?

Shit happens. That's the way of life, so says the everyday philosopher or writer. But Roxas felt as though piles upon piles, tons upon tons, of excrement had been dumped all over his life. He honestly believed was going to die in this building, but he feared for nothing except the life of his girlfriend.

He ran inside; there was nobody in the lobby, no receptionist, no clerk, nothing. He remembered that most people had moved on to bigger and better things, whilst the Ion family remained in their cozy third-floor apartment. Gunshots would not be heard by anyone.

Roxas _sprinted_ into the elevator, heart racing faster than ever. After he jammed the "3rd"-button, he tried to calm down. There was no way he was going to best McLean if he was panicking.

But he _had_ to panic. McLean said he had a gun. What did Roxas have? Two "Keyblades", computer devices/batons crafted by otherworldly beings, tied to his back in a metal "X". What was he gonna do, _sodomize_ McLean into submission?

Didn't matter. All that mattered was getting Lily out of this fucking place ASAP. He would tell her the location of the safest place in the world, Oblivion Labs, and the Organization could have a new Member XIII while his body rotted in this apartment building with a bullet in its head.

The doors to the elevator opened. In movies Roxas had seen before all of this, protagonists entering a deserted hallway where the serial killer lurked walked down it very slowly; Roxas sprinted yet again. He arrived at the Ion's apartment, and unsheathed his only weapons, his gifts from the most exciting and welcoming life he had ever been given, and kicked the door open with all his might.

A respectful person and boyfriend, Ryan Hall had never seen his girlfriend naked, and planned on doing so only until they were ready to make love. He had never in a million years expected to see her naked self tied to a chair in her own kitchen, eyes wide with terror and humiliation, puddles of substance between her legs and running down her chin, mouth taped shut. The sight made Roxas' mouth drop open into a gape; he was too shocked at this pitiful sight to feel anything, even hatred.

He ran to her, put down _Oblivion_, and pulled the tape off of her mouth.

"Lily," he whispered. "Oh, my God, Lily…"

In a choking voice, she said, "Ryan…he k-killed my mom…my dad…he…he…"

She screamed loudly, and the sound devastating to Roxas. He turned and saw McLean, dressed in one of Mr. Ion's many business suits, revolver in one hand and brick in the other.

"You made it," said McLean, his smile dripping with taunt. "Good. It's about time you saw the consequences of your stupid games."

"Adam…" Roxas choked through his tears. "Please. Let her go, man, this isn't right. What've you _done_, Adam?"

McLean shouted, "Its _PETE_! PETE IS MY NAME, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! Adam is dead as a doornail because he was _weak_, he lost to _you_, but PETE will beat you! PETE IS INVICIBLE!"

Roxas had no idea what the flying fuck this psychopath was talking about, but the utter shock of what was occurring still electrified his mind like a Taser. If you are reading this as a high school student, imagine it yourself: someone you know, see everyday, talk to everyday, now standing with a gun in his hand, planning to kill you and your loved ones. If the Anglo-Saxons were right, and Fate ran everything, then Fate had taken Adam McLean, chewed him up, and spit him out as the lowest of the low.

Naturally a kind boy, Roxas talked to the peer who had ruined his own stable mentality: "Listen, then, Pete. Just put down the gun, okay? We don't have to do this." But was that true? Some dark corner in Roxas' mind reminded him sadly that "Pete" McLean had _already_ done "this". The damage was done, and there would be no cooperation.

Instead of lowering the gun, McLean raised it to Roxas' level. The young man who used to be just a cocky asshole now looked manic, demonic even. His eyes were bloodshot, skin pale, face rugged with a slight beard. Normal children grow up to be normal adults, but this normal child had grown up to be something awful. McLean was not a child anymore; Roxas realized he had to fight his adversary as an adult, no matter what the consequences were. The games of tag during recess were over.

_How did this happen? _He thought sorrowfully, and immediately came to his conclusion: _I joined the Organization. That's how it happened._

True, but what was it that had fueled him to join? McLean. McLean and his acts against him…which now did not seem so wrong or evil, compared to this new ploy of his.

Smiling toothily, gun still raised to Roxas' head, Pete McLean said, "Move away from her."

"No," whispered Roxas.

"Move away, or she dies!" McLean screamed, gun now pointing at Lily. Lily gave a muffled yelp.

"Okay," Roxas said, hands raised. "Okay."

He walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. McLean's smile grew wider as he said, "Now, you're gonna sit there and watch me have a little fun with your bitch. If you even dare to move, I'll blow her brains out. How does that sound?"

Roxas looked helplessly at Lily, whose eyes were full of terror. McLean's, however, were full of glee.

"Excellent," said Pete. He turned to Lily. "One more go, how about? This time, I think, you should take it up the ass." He turned to Roxas, grin still on his face. "That'd be the last thing I've fucked on her entire body. Ask her yourself, shitheap, I even fucked her _ears_, her God damn _nose_. There isn't a single orifice on her body that isn't full of ol' Petey. And that's _good_. I want you to know, Ryan, that I am better than you in every way possible. I beat you in the essay, I beat you to your girl, and now I'm going to beat your ass to death…and once you're gone, Lily and I are going to have one fucking crazy time. Aren't we, Lil?" He giggled and caressed her with the back of his hand, and she burst into tears.

"Fuck you, you unimaginable sonofawhore," whispered Roxas through clenched teeth. He was shaking with rage, with fear, with utter hopelessness. He was only dimly aware at this time that something on his back was starting to grow hot…

McLean laughed and crooned, "Aww. Does little Ryan-Wyan love her? Did little Ryan-Wyan want his first time with her to be magical?" Another gale of laughter.

Roxas fell to his knees, tears pouring out of his eyes like rivers

_I've failed her, I've failed her, I've failed her, oh Jesus, what's that hotness on my back, what the fuck, what the fuck…_

It was the Keyblades. He unsheathed them from the wrappings on his back, and saw each of the blades on his weapons were glowing with a red energy as crimson as his anger. The Keyblades were now white hot, covered in auroras of steam and power. He held them in his hands, feeling suddenly powerful. Anger and grief gone, replaced with wonder, he stared up at McLean with an open mouth.

"Pete" was also taken aback.

"What is this?" he demanded, voice trembling. He raised the pistol at Roxas. "Don't come any closer!" Now he was panicking, voice _cracking_.

Roxas felt good. He felt like a _god_. He stood up and laughed, loudly, almost hysterically.

"Stand your ground!" demanded Pete McLean, voice now higher-pitched.

Roxas moved forward.

Pete fired.

* * *

Saix hurried into the kitchen, where a good majority of the Organization was bickering loudly, as if in a panic.

"The hell's going on?" he demanded loudly. "Axel, why did you call me down?"

Axel said, "Sir, Roxas is gone. He came in here to grab his Keyblades and just left. I asked him where the fuck he was going, and he said someone has his girlfriend. Sir, I think he might be in trouble. We need to help him."

_Is he actually worried?_ Thought the second-in-command with wonder.

Zexion came forward.

"Saix, it would be most unwise to send in help for Roxas. It could be the Heartless, and we've already had _enough_ complications with them today to pursue anymore encounters…"

Lexaeus, who Saix hadn't seen for days up until now, told his colleague, "Oh, shut it, Zexion. The Organization is a brotherhood, not your fucking fan club. I say we send help. Hell, this shouldn't even be a _debate_. We _are_ sending help, Zexion." He glared at Saix. "Aren't we?"

Saix nodded immediately. He wanted nothing to happen to Roxas, who he had regarded with a certain kinship…something that surprised everyone, especially himself.

"Well?" he asked. "Who shall go?"

He looked around at all of their faces, and in many of them saw a lack of care for the boy's wellbeing. Zexion was pouting, Marluxia looked rather bored with the entire situation, Xaldin was scraping dirt from underneath his fingernails, and Demyx was again just strumming away at his guitar without a care in the world. The rest looked genuinely concerned, even Larxene, and Saix himself felt more concerned than all of them put together. Nobody spoke up.

Axel opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by another voice from behind them all, by someone who just entered the kitchen.

"I shall go."

* * *

The bullet whizzed past Roxas and hit the wall behind him. It had missed by an inch, amazingly, and this suddenly gave Roxas a boost of confidence that could never be matched. He swung the energized Keyblades in a couple of slow circles, like he had recently trained himself to do in the Grey Room. The blades made electronic swooshing-noises that could only originate from an energy that was beyond the technology of this world. As the blades swung, they left trails of smoke, and singed the carpet underneath Roxas' feet. He slowly made his way to the tiled kitchen.

_Now_ McLean was lowering the gun. His mouth was open in a comical "O"-shape. Bound to the chair, Lily looked in utter amazement at the miraculous weapons in her boyfriend's hands.

"S-stand back!" said McLean, suddenly furious.

Now it was Roxas' turn to taunt. He spread his arms out wide, holding the Keyblades out like wings; they hit the walls of the room and burned into them. Roxas walked forward, ripping open the walls with the blades, rubble and shreds of burnt wallpaper falling around him like hellish confetti. He only released the Keyblades as soon as he was in the kitchen, where McLean was desperately trying to regain control over the situation.

"Enough of this!" shrieked "the best", and raised the gun again, this time at Lily.

Roxas rushed forward and swung _Oblivion_ high over his head, giving a bull-like battle cry that barbarians hundreds of years ago had only successfully roared.

A flash of hot metal, and the sound of flesh thumping onto the tiled floor of the kitchen.

McLean stood in shock, looking at the piece of flesh that was once his hand in a puddle of blood on the kitchen floor, still clutching onto the revolver. McLean looked at Roxas, and ran out of the apartment.

Roxas almost let him go. Almost. It occurred to him just then, thankfully, that if McLean could somehow recover from having his hand chopped off, he would most definitely come after Lily again. And, if he were to go _anywhere_ without a hand, he would be taken to the hospital as quick as could be, and make up some bullshit story that could put either Roxas, Lily, or both of them into trouble. No; the job needed to get done, and get done quickly. Roxas chased after his adversary, cold blood pumping through his veins.

Pete McLean ran into the elevator, more afraid than he had ever been in his entire life. The metal doors of the elevator shut, but not before McLean saw his arch-nemesis running down the hall with the tools that were used to take his hand. Thankfully, the doors shut before Ryan could get a chance to come in. McLean whimpered and sunk to the floor as the elevator went up to a random floor he had pressed once he had entered. His stump was bleeding terribly, and he wondered frightfully if he would die in this apartment building from blood loss.

What the hell had _happened_, anyways? Just what the flying fuck was _that_ all about? When McLean first saw the two batons sticking out of Hall's back, he had been amused…but he had underestimated their capabilities. With tools like those, Ryan had bested him…_him_! Ryan had won…how could it be?

"Not for long," he vowed to himself, feeling woozy all of a sudden. "I'll just come at him again. He won the battle, but the war is far from over…"

The elevator doors opened onto the seventh floor. This floor was dark, illuminated only by dim lights. It reminded McLean of death. He shuddered and walked out slowly, clutching his battle wound tightly. If there had been a mirror in this hallway, Pete McLean would have seen how white he was. His speculation that he was dying from blood loss was correct, and if only life were fair to those who commit acts of evil as horrid as his own, he would have died quietly, silently, and peacefully on that floor.

However, he did not.

McLean had no idea where he was heading on this floor, other than safety from Ryan, thinking that he was going to survive this encounter and return to fight another day. Ryan was his rival, his archenemy, the Green Goblin to his Spider-Man, wasn't he? This would be just the first of their encounters, or so he thought…

…as he was deep in these thoughts, he took no notice the shadowy figure slowly creeping up behind him. It wasn't until a hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder did McLean scream and turn around.

When it happened, it happened fast. For a brief moment, McLean saw a man of about thirty with a white plastic tube in his hand. A second later, the condiments of the tube were thrown into his face, and McLean entered a world of pain.

White hotness was covering his face, and he fell to the floor, writhing. It felt as though something was eating away his skin, eating away his _face_, and all of the fight instantly drained out of him. McLean inhaled before giving the loudest scream he ever shouted in his life, a scream so loud it damaged his vocal cords and cut off halfway through, lowering down to a raspy squeal. The pain was magnificent, the worst burn a person could ever endure. He would have thrashed around, but he had no energy left.

Adam "Pete" McLean succumbed to Death as still as a fallen tree.

* * *

Roxas arrived on the seventh floor via the stairs about ten minutes after he had seen McLean go upstairs using the elevator. The darkness of the hallway unnerved him, but that caution turned into immediate shock when he found a body on the wooden floor. Adam McLean was handless and faceless; a red crater had seemed to replace his eyes, nose, and mouth. Blood was all over the floor; if this was McLean, which it was, then he had died painfully. A death nobody his age should have endured, yet nobody his age should have committed the crimes he had.

Although initially lost for words, Roxas eventually said, "How the _hell_…"

He looked up to see a man standing next to him, looking at McLean's body with a mixture of disgust and triumph. The man was about thirty, with long, grey hair and tan skin. His eyes had a mischievous gleam to them, a demonic Saint Nick. Although Roxas had never met the man face-to-face, he knew who this was.

"Doctor Xehanort," he croaked. "You're the founder of the Organization."

Xehanort smiled to confirm this. It was a grin that would make Wal-Mart's smiley-face-mascot burn with pure jealousy.

"_You_ killed McLean?" Roxas inquired.

"Oh, yes," said Xehanort, smile not even slightly faltering. "He was an enemy to you, and therefore an enemy to the Organization."

"H-how did you…?"

"Chemical burn, my friend. Solid sodium hydroxide is found in lye. Solid sodium hydroxide burns flesh on contact. Getting hit with a couple pounds worth of the stuff can send any maniac to the ground. I'm sure your contribution helped finish him off, though." Xehanort indicated the stump.

"So," said the Superior. "You are Member XIII. Roxas. A pleasure to meet you."

The two shook hands. Roxas was expecting a brutal handshake, tight and strong, but Xehanort's was warm and a bit soft.

"We met at The Met, already, I think. However, we couldn't risk being seen together. What if someone you knew was there? There could have been consequences for both you and me, certainly. Unfortunately, there _was_ someone there you knew…but here he is again."

"I honestly cannot believe it," said Roxas. "I mean it. I knew this kid, shit, I _grew up_ with this kid. I can't believe he's dead, and I can't believe I'm partly responsible."

"He was petty and cowardly," said Xehanort, somewhat bored with his newest member's analysis of the situation. "Not much of a loss."

Yet Roxas could not take his eyes off the bloody body. He felt tears swim into his eyes. What a horrible way to die. He had never wanted this…but it had to have been done. What other choice was there? Let McLean go and wait for him to find him and put a bullet into his skull? Or, even worse, Lily's skull?

"Damn it," he choked.

Xehanort patted him on the shoulder.

"Your girlfriend," said the Superior suddenly. "She's downstairs, is she not?"

"Yes."

"We should get her out of here."

"You'd let her stay at the Labs?"

"Of course."

"Th-thank you," said Roxas, tears running down his cheeks. "Thank you so much. For everything. Your Organization is the only family I've ever had, ever dreamt of."

Xehanort replied, "No. Thank _you_ for making the Organization complete. You're still a child, so it's natural you would mess up a recon mission…but I see in you many talents. Why else would I ask you to join? The others may be skeptical of your abilities, but I think you have capabilities that far surpass theirs."

Roxas smiled. The Superior smiled back.

"Now," said Dr. Xehanort. "Let's get you to your girlfriend."

They took the elevator down and reached the apartment, which had its door hanging by one hinge. Xehanort stopped his underling before they reached the room.

"Is she naked?"

Blushing, Roxas replied, "Err, yes."

"Then clothe her, please. If I'm to chat with her, I want her to have some sort of dignity."

"Okay."

Roxas went in, face burning with his flush. Lily was still bound to the chair, and looked at him wide-eyed when he entered the room unharmed.

"Where is he?" she whispered.

"Dead," said Roxas. "He's dead."

"Good."

He knelt down beside her and kissed her full on the lips. A huge relief had swept over him. Things had gotten bad, so bad, and he had thought his involvement in the Organization was to blame. But the Organization killed off McLean, he had won, and Lily was _safe_, she was _safe_…

Roxas unbound his girlfriend and got her some clothes. She put them on, blushing furiously, but the damage had been done.

"Now," he said. "I want you to meet someone. It's the man who finished McLean off for us, and my employer. Dr. Xehanort!"

The man came in, charming as ever, smile broad.

"Hello," said Xehanort. "Are you okay?"

"No," said Lily dully. "I want to shower."

"All in due time," said Xehanort, his smile growing wider. "You're probably confused as to why I'm here. You see, your boyfriend here has recently joined the ranks of an elite group of intellectuals called Organization XIII. I am its leader, Dr. Xehanort. I recruited Ryan here to be apart of my plans, after reading his essay on the Chaos Theory. There are eleven others besides us two, at a hideout not-too-far-away. It is safe there. You will be given a room, food, shower, and many other luxuries that come with dating a Member."

"Um. Okay," Lily whispered, still shocked. Roxas could tell she was thinking that everything was moving so quickly. He had to agree.

"However, upon joining the Organization, Ryan Hall is now 'Roxas'. We _all_ have aliases, besides myself, since I am the Founding Father, I guess you could say. As Founding Father, I have been responsible for picking and choosing the members of my Organization. Thirteen was the maximum, and your boyfriend got the last slot because he rather impresses me. We are a family, our Organization, and we I am welcoming to extend our little gathering to you. You will not be officially apart of the Organization, no, but you may stay. _Will_ you stay?"

"I don't…" she looked at Roxas. "Ryan?"

Roxas said quietly, "You should come. It's safe. Safest place I know. And I love it all. I want you to come."

"I…want…_he killed my parents_!" she shrieked. She was completely dry of tears, but she was still well and ready to wail. "My parents are _dead_! Sure, they sort of ignored me a lot of the time, but I still loved them and he _shot them_! Why?" Her voice cracked with the strain.

Roxas opened his mouth, but Xehanort raised a hand to silence him. His mouth snapped shut.

In a soothing voice, Xehanort said to Lily, "The McLean boy was psychotic, and hated your boyfriend worse than anything. In whatever way he killed your parents, I'm afraid it would not be equal to the pain and suffering he endured when he crossed the Organization's path…_my_ path. Rest assured, Lily, if vengeance is what you seek, ease your emotions; your parents' killer is upstairs with his face burned off from dry sodium hydroxide. _And_ he's handless. This is what happens to enemies of the Organization. With us, you will be safer than the damn President. What say you? Shall you stay?"

She sniffed. "Yes."

Roxas smiled.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed the Superior, beaming. "However, you can't be Lily Ion anymore, that part of your life is over…Hmm, perhaps Xily is good? What say you, Roxas?"

"Why not Xion?" suggested the Chaos Theorist.

"Ah! That works. Please, stand up, Xion. We should really get out of here before someone discovers poor McLean upstairs, and I think we have a nice hot shower waiting for you when we get home."

* * *

**Well, there you go. Thank you, DeadShut. *claps* We hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'll be writing the next chapter, but I has a lot of work to do, so it might take a few days.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	11. Acceptance

**Hey-lo! Haji here. And I've decided to do a DeadShut-esque introduction. *Ahem***

**In today's society, were are bombarded by every obsticle, and are sometimes forced to make sacrifices. In today's society, our bravery is measured by how much we are willing to sacrifice to get what we want. Our strength is measured by how much we are willing to sacrifice to get what we need. Our wants and needs are never exactly the same. Which begs the question...would you rather be brave? Or strong?**

**Strength could also be measured by how much you would be willing to put up with your ever weakening circumstances. Wether you would give yourself to someone whose desires may not be as pure as you wished they were. Sometimes, leverage is all you really need.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Riku sat across from Mick, fingers interlaced, chin resting on tired hands. Mick stared back at him in the same fashion. They were in a restaurant, but they sat several tables apart. Sora sat next to him, holding a cell phone under the table.

"There's something we need to clear up before we continue, Mick," Riku whispered solemnly.

"I'm listening," Mick said just as softly.

Riku shifted. "I was offered a job."

"And?"

"Riku sighed. "I took it…or I want to take it. But, I'm not sure how wise that would be."

Mick shuffled the cell phone and placed it on the table. "Okay, I understand. That's your call, Riku. Just let me know when you make a decision."

Riku smiled. "I'm gonna have to do some bad shit. Don't hate me for it."

Mick chuckled. "That's the way life is. You do what you need to. Now I have something for you."

Riku nodded. "Go ahead."

Kairi sat down beside him, just as a waitress placed four plates of food in front of him.

Riku looked up at her. "Excuse me, we only have a party of three."

The waitress glanced down. "Yeah, but a guy named Terra called and said he had a reservation with you. He said, the table with the thug, the doughy brown haired one, and a bitch with red hair. You're the only ones who fit that description." She paused. "Though I'm sure you're nice people."

Riku growled softly. "Motherfucker."

"Is everything okay?"

The waitress left the table. Riku clenched his fists. "Not anymore. But, go. Quickly before he comes."

Mick coughed. "I was looking into some old documents about an incident that happened in Roswell, New Mexico. I found a couple of inconsistencies in the documentation. I need you to get the original documents and study them."

Riku, who had been drinking, spit out the contents onto the table. "What? Mick!" He looked around and lowered his voice. "Mick, how the hell are we supposed to do that? We don't even have that kind of authority. And I don't have those kinds of contacts."

Mick was quiet for a long time. "I'm sure you can figure something out. I can't be caught asking for those documents. It would be catastrophic for my career. Understand?"

Riku laughed hollowly. "Yeah, but…I don't know where it is."

"Underneath the Library of Congress."

Sora had been sitting next to Riku. He was constantly fidgeting, not entirely sure if he should say anything about what had happened at Club Heartless. He glanced at Kairi, who nodded.

"Hey, Riku?"

Riku groaned. Terra had just walked into the restaurant and was surveying the tables. His eyes were narrowed. "What? Make it quick."

Sora thought for just a second. "I killed someone at Club Heartless."

Riku's eyes widened, and his face churned with new concerns. "What?"

But he said no more, for Terra had spotted them and was making his way to their table, but not without pinching the waitress. His narrowed eyes seemed much more relaxed and he had an air of arrogance about him. Even more so than when they had first met. He sat down.

"Hello, Riku and…friends." He smirked. "What are you doing here?"

Riku grit his teeth, but forced his calm composure. He really didn't have time for Terra right now. "I should ask you the same thing, Terra."

Terra frowned, but smiled quickly. It was almost as if he had been a salesman in a previous life. "Hey, I said to enjoy D.C."

"We are!" Sora blurted. Terra looked at him. Sora could vaguely see that his fingers were twitching.

"Look," Riku said, interrupting Terra's targeting. "We just want to sit and eat. We will go and see whatever you want. Please, just get the fuck outta here."

"Cheeky, Riku." Terra murmured. "Real classy."

Riku leaned away. "You're one to talk."

Terra leaned across the table. He wanted to grab Riku, but he knew better than to cause any kind of commotion. Instead, he dropped a coin on a napkin and pushed it across to Riku, who accepted it cautiously.

"What's this?" Riku asked.

"It's a coin, stupid." Terra laughed. "You look like you are looking for something."

Riku looked away and put the coin in his pocket. "It's nothing. I can handle it."

Terra pushed his food away. "I'm sure you can, but I could make it easier for you."

"I don't want any favors…"

"You never want anything, buddy!" Terra said loudly. "No favors, no friends, no sex! I mean, what the fuck is wrong with you? You don't even look at me when I talk to you."

"Because!" Riku flushed and brought his voice down. He whispered, because he knew that if he yelled, Terra would probably kill him. He wasn't in the mood for that. "Because, you are a manipulative, arrogant shithead. I can't stand you. Go fuck yourself."

Sora was completely taken by surprise, but nothing that Riku said phased Terra in the slightest. He didn't even look angry. Not even a little. Suspicion worked its way into his thoughts. And the Keyblade burned in his pocket.

"Reconsider, Riku," Terra said.

Riku stood up and leaned over the table, He looked absolutely haunting. Scarier than Terra could ever be. "Fuck. You."

Terra smiled slyly at him, but kept his mouth closed. "You'll change your mind."

"Yeah, as soon as Hell freezes over."

Riku stormed away, but his mind was running at light speed. Even though he had stood up for himself, he knew Terra wasn't going to take that lying down. He expected Sora and Kairi to follow, but secretly wished that they wouldn't. Sora had told him that he had killed somebody. This added another complication.

_Another fucking complication. _Riku thought. He milled around at the side of a shallow pond like pool of water. The National Mall had dozens of them. _I should have killed him._

"You look stressed."

Riku turned around. Sitting on a small backpack was Aqua. Riku's heart fell into his stomach. "Aqua?"

Aqua stood. She was wearing a costume of some kind. Sashes hugged her chest, and her sleeves were not unlike flowing water. If she hadn't been carrying a backpack, she would have looked like a warrior from a distant land.

Riku grinned. "Your…costume?"

Aqua looked at herself. "Yeah, I was in the middle of something."

"I never took you as a cosplayer." Riku said, trying to stifle his laughter. Suddenly, Terra and everything else didn't matter.

Aqua blushed. "For your information…I was making a…an adult movie."

Riku frowned. "Oh…"

Aqua smiled. "No, I wasn't in it, but the director refused to let anyone on set who wasn't in a costume. And I needed to speak with the producers, and my girls were nervous. It's a whole ordeal. But that doesn't matter. I got a call the other day."

Riku looked at her, and his misery was back. But the flutter of longing was still there. Just buried under a mountain of responsibility. "About?"

"Interestingly…you."

"Oh, really?"

"I heard you needed help making an important decision."

Riku looked away. "Fuck Terra. Fuck D.C. And fuck his offer. I don't want it."

Aqua hugged him. "I'm not trying to convince you to join him. I just want you to get a little taste of what kind of power you would have."

She reached into his pocket and turned the coin in her fingers. Riku seized up, wanted to pull away before his hormones betrayed his tough shell. But, Aqua smiled as she pulled the coin out of his pocket.

"We sure are excited, today." Aqua said teasingly. "Makes me wish you stayed with me in New York."

Riku didn't look at her. "I don't think I get it."

Aqua put the coin in her backpack. "This coin was a test of a sort. The fact that you took it says a lot about you. You know…I'm kinda glad you took it."

Riku glanced at her. "Why?"

Aqua opened her backpack. It had a variety of different garments in it, but she reached her hand in and shuffled the contents for a brief moment. After a while, she pulled out a roll of money. She handed it to him.

Riku didn't move. "I'm not taking that."

Aqua huffed. "Why not? It's your payment. You brought Terra what I needed you to bring to him."

"Those were yours?"

"Of course," Aqua said, laughing. "I'm a Madame. I own a lot of shit. Terra's just my distributor."

Riku opened his mouth and closed it quickly. "So…"

Aqua sighed. "You wouldn't be working for him. You'd be working for me."

Riku swallowed and took the roll of money. He was surprised that it was so heavy. His mind was running again. His thoughts were turning in his mind, and he wasn't entirely sure if he could do what he was being asked.

But then he remembered his promise.

"Okay."

Aqua smiled. "Okay…"

"I'll do it," Riku said finally. "But, on one condition."

Aqua frowned slightly. "What's the condition?"

Riku pocketed the roll of money. "I am not to be tethered to D.C. Or New York. Or anywhere. I can move when I want, where I want. No strings attached. I want to pursue my own…things."

Aqua thought about it for a second. "What kind of things?"

Riku paused. He didn't want to betray Mick's trust, but he had to do what he had to do. "I'm trying to find the Heartless leader. Sora's parents were kidnapped by a different kind of Heartless. And I want to stop them."

Aqua took his hand. "Okay, then. You can have that. And now, I get to initiate you."

Riku tensed. "It's not going to…"

"Shush." Aqua put her finger to his lip. Riku noted how soft her fingers were, but he snapped out of it without her noticing. "It will hurt, but you need to do it tonight. I have to go back to New York tomorrow."

Riku nodded. "Okay."

Aqua turned around. Riku watched her, wishing she wouldn't move so fast. Oh, how lust clouded his judgment, and interfered with his logic. But, something occurred to him, and reached out for her hand.

Aqua looked at him, batting her eyelashes. "You want something?"

"I…" Riku flushed. _Why is it so hard to fucking talk to her?_

"Do I make you nervous?"

Riku trembled. "I need a favor."

Aqua smirked. "What kind of favor?"

Riku swallowed. "I need to get under the Library of Congress."

Aqua looked away. She was thinking. "That's a big favor. A tough one." She glanced at the water, looking like she was trying to remember a distant memory. She tapped her chin. "I think I have a girl who works there still. Her name is Amber. Ask for her. She should be able to help, but not without an incentive."

Riku scoffed. "Money?"

Aqua shrugged. "I don't know. But you better be willing to pay. That is, if you want whatever it is you're looking for."

Riku nodded. Aqua threw him a set of keys. He looked at them. "What's this?"

"If you're going to work for me," Aqua said, "you're going to have a car." She turned around. "It's the CTS in the parking lot. The red one. It's yours now."

"But…"

Aqua waved him off. "Just be on time. I may look nice, but I'm one hell of a bitch when it comes to business. Don't be late."

She left. Riku stood there for awhile, trying to figure out exactly what it was he got himself into, when Sora tapped him on his shoulder.

"You okay?" He asked. Kairi stood a little way away.

Riku looked at him. "Yeah. I know how to get into the Library."

* * *

While Superior was away, Zexion had asked Saix to have a private meeting. As they stood in Saix's room, Zexion was looking through a leather bound book. He flicked through the pages lazily, waiting for Saix to say something.

Saix groaned, still thinking about Roxas.

"Saix."

"Hmm?"

"I've asked to speak with you privately, because I believe there are traitors in our midst."

Saix arched an eyebrow. "Traitors?"

Zexion nodded. "I've been keeping a log of any suspicious activity that I've seen. I've compiled quite a list, and it concerns me. I think we may be deviating from our original task."

Saix opened his mouth, but closed it without saying a word.

"I'm more concerned with Marluxia." Zexion commented as he stopped flipping the pages. "He has become much more violent and manic, even going so far as to threaten one of our own."

Saix nodded. "I understand your concerns."

Zexion closed his book. "I did want to run this by you before I took it to Superior. I wouldn't want to interrupt him."

Saix leaned back in his chair. "I will talk to Xehanort. I do believe that your concerns are misplaced. However, I appreciate you coming to me first."

Zexion barely moved.

"Marluxia is getting worse," Saix said after a short pause. "I've noticed this as well, but I've been given my missions. It isn't necessary for you to know everything, Zexion. You continue to succeed in the tasks given to you, and all will be well."

Zexion didn't answer. He stared at Saix, not daring to narrow his eyes. He then bowed his head respectively and turned on his heels.

"By the way," Saix muttered. Zexion looked at him. "How did Vexen's test go?"

Zexion looked down, trying not to let his disappointment show. "It failed."

"Shit."

"But Vexen thinks he can fix it."

Zexion left, leaving Saix to his thoughts. He entered the kitchen, just as Roxas entered, half carrying his violated girlfriend. Zexion let them pass without so much as a sideways glance. Xehanort followed soon after. He surveyed the room, smiling. He still had that warm inviting air about him.

He spread his arms out wide, almost like he was God. "Good evening…"

Axel sat up, "Superior! You're back from your Jerk-Off Convention. How the hell are you?"

"Axel!" cried Marluxia. "You show Superior respect!"

"Fuck you, Flower boy." Axel growled. He fingered his handmade flamethrowers under the table.

Xehanort's smile faltered. "Now, there is no need for such hostility."

Marluxia relaxed. He respected Xehanort for too much to disobey him. He would slit his own throat for him. All he had to do was give the word. "I'm sorry, Superior."

Axel backed off as well. He wasn't really in the mood to defend his ego. He saw Roxas carrying a girl, and instantly wanted to know what had happened. If Superior hadn't come, he would have jumped to his feet, and burned whatever part of the city he had to, to help his friend.

The members at the table grew tense. They had all seen the girl. Zexion sat down and folded his hands, glaring at Marluxia. Marluxia glanced back and wiggled his fingers at him. Zexion turned his head away, slighting him. Larxene, who sat next to Marluxia, motioned to him behind his back. Zexion shook his head.

Larxene huffed softly. She had been denied the chance to stab Marluxia in the back.

Xehanort sat at the head of the table. He was quite handsome. Tanned skin that wore its African-American nationality with pride. He was strong looking, but not unfriendly. It seemed that he could charm even the most hardcore skeptic into believing what ever he told them. Everyone fell silent.

Xehanort clapped his hands together. "Let's eat. Then we shall talk. It's been awhile."

Axel looked at him. "Where's…"

"Roxas will be joining us soon," Xehanort softly. He smiled. "What's on the menu?"

* * *

Riku was leaning close to Sora, whispering hurriedly in his ear.

"Just ask for Amber." He instructed. "Tell her Aqua sent you. And that she gave you a car. Red CTS. Then, tell her what you need."

Sora shivered. His nerves were eating at him. Riku hadn't yelled at him about Club Heartless, and that scared him more than anything. Terra had threatened him. It was almost like his day was getting bleaker.

But, there was still that glimmer of light. Kairi told him he looked cool with bed hair. Though, he still brushed it and styled it sloppily.

They were standing in the lobby of the massive building that was the Library of Congress. Hallways and dozens of staircases led in every direction. Sora was overwhelmed by its vastness. He couldn't believe how many books were staring at him.

At the front desk were several women, all typing on computers. Sora approached one of the women. He was shaking. This was his first time doing this.

"Excuse me," Sora said softly.

The woman glanced from her screen. "Welcome to the Library of Congress. How can I help you?"

Sora looked back at Riku. "Uhhh...I need to speak to Amber."

The woman sopped and looked at him. "What for?"

"Uhhh…I need…to talk to her." Sora paused. "It's about…that thing."

"That thing?"

Sora nodded. "Yeah. She'll know what I'm talking about. She told me not to say it out loud."

The woman grinned. "Sure. Hold on."

She picked up a phone that was next to her computer and punched in a number. She was quiet for a long time, looking Sora up and down. It was obvious she didn't believe him. Sora avoided eye contact. He resorted to twiddling his thumbs, and humming softly.

"Hey."

Sora looked up.

"She'll be here in a minute." The woman said. "Please move along."

Sora nodded, almost fainting from his nervousness. He couldn't believe she had given him exactly what he wanted without question. He began to wonder if that was because he did a good job lying, or if it was because he looked like a nerd and just couldn't keep himself together when looking at pretty girls. He guessed the second one. He was a terrible liar.

He stood next to Riku, who was staring at a painting that was hung on beautiful hooks that stuck out from the sides like wings. Two flags hung from these hooks. The American flag, with its red and white stripes, and the stars that represented the fifty states, and the flag for the state of Maryland, a hash of black and yellow shapes and red and white crosses. For some reason, Riku was entranced.

"Hello?"

Sora and Riku turned around. Before them stood a woman wearing a tight skirt suit with a red tag around her neck. She was absolutely severe looking. Both boys opened and closed their mouths without saying anything. Kairi, who had been hanging back, stepped forward.

"Hello." She said happily. "Amber?"

The woman nodded.

Kairi nudged Sora, but when he didn't say anything, she cleared her throat. "Uhh…Aqua gave us your name."

"So?"

"She wanted to let you know that she gave us the red CTS. And that we should talk to you if we had any questions."

Amber looked at her. "She told you this?"

"Well, she told my friend here," Kairi motioned to Riku. "But, he can't seem to talk right now. He's scared of your stature."

Amber frowned. "Okay, then. What do you want?"

Riku shook his head. "Roswell, summer of 1947. Original documents."

Amber laughed. It echoed through the lobby, but no one looked at her. It was obvious that she was the boss. "You are asking for quite a bit."

Riku frowned. "I'll give you whatever you want."

Amber turned around. "Sorry, that's just too much."

Riku grabbed her hand, but didn't pull her back around. "Please. I said anything."

Amber looked at him. "Hmm. Anything, huh?"

Riku nodded.

Amber looked at Sora. "How old is he?"

Riku looked at Sora, too, eyes widening. "No, I can't do that. He's off limits."

"You said anything," Amber said, smirking.

"He's still…"

Sora, who had no idea what it was that Amber was asking of him, felt the need to be bold. He wanted to prove to Riku that he wasn't alone. And wasn't the only one who would be willing to make sacrifices. Of course, he did miss every innuendo. He pointed to himself. "I'll do it."

Riku let go of Amber and leaned closer to Sora. "You don't even know what she wants with you, do you?"

Sora shook his head. "No, but you need to do this for Mick. Whatever it is, I'll do it."

Riku sighed. "She's a cougar. You might not…"

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do," Sora said. "Amber, I'll do it."

Amber smiled devilishly. "Right this way."

Kairi walked beside Sora, and she pushed him angrily.

"What?"

"Why did you agree to do that?" She hissed.

"I was helping Riku." Sora answered defensively. "How bad could it possibly be?"

"She wants to fuck you, you idiot." Kairi hissed again.

Sora stopped. "What?"

"That's what cougars do," Kairi said. "Didn't your parents ever tell you that?"

Sora dropped his shoulders and continued walking. "No, they didn't."

Kairi didn't look at him. "Whatever. I'm sure Riku will get you out of this."

_Shit. _Sora thought. _Now she's mad at me. How on Earth am I going to get out of this one?_

Amber led them into an elevator, down at least ten floors, and through various doors with big locks and dead bolts the size of car rims. She opened one of the vast doors, to a room that was completely made out of thick panes of glass.

"You have exactly one hour to look through the documents." Amber said sternly. "After that, you must leave. I can get away with the door being opened for a reference check. But, no more than an hour. Your time starts now."

She shut the door, and it locked. Riku turned to them. "Let's get started. Read everything."

Sora tried to follow Kairi, but she pushed him away. He wanted to plead with her. But, they didn't have that kind of time. He pulled out random files and boxes, and looked through them. They had charts and tiny notes, but nothing that really interested him.

He opened another box. "What are we looking for, Riku?"

Riku flipped through papers quickly, scanning them. "Anything. Just read. If you find charts, keep those."

Sora pocketed a piece of paper. "But, isn't that stealing?"

"No," Riku said. "It's public property."

"But—"

"Read, Sora. This is important."

And the room fell silent. There was nothing but shuffling papers and the hollow sound of panicked breathing. Sora stole glances at Kairi. He wished he could have undone what he did. Kairi ignored him, concentrating on her own stack of papers. Sora looked at the paper in his hand. It had a diagram on it. As he looked closer, he realized that it was an exact depiction of the Keyblade. He pulled it out, hearing the faint humming sound come from it again.

"Hey, guys?"

* * *

**Well. It took me longer to write this chapter than I had expected. And DeadShut will be working on the next chapter. *Huzzah***

**Any questions, please PM me or DeadShut, and we will be more than happy to answer them. Now, I'm off to actually start chapter 32 of Krystahl Kingdom Crossover Saga. I'm so excited, because it's going to be a fucking awesome chapter.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :) **


	12. Ad Initium

**Hey, all! DeadShut here with another chapter. Things are starting to get more eerie not only in this story, but also in the real world as well, with all these enigmatic and similar UFO sightings popping up around the world suddenly...it's enough to get the mind racing. On a universal scale, we're specks of dust, but as time progresses and events unfold, we will come to realize that although we are small, we are capable of unimaginable feats. What matters is how we use these capabilities: will we use them to create, or to destroy? And, if there are others in our universe, which have they chosen to act upon? **

**Anyways, please enjoy this chapter. If you're attracted to the realism, or enjoy my strange and philisophical writing-style, check out my "Mario Realism" story, which is going to be updated with a second chapter. Furthermore, if you'd like some easy-reading, I happily invite you to come check out my FictionPress account (which is also called "DeadShut"), where I've posted many poems and short horror stories that I like to think are a unique collection of...experiments. And they are only the beginning, the first of a many.**

_Ad Initium, _**DeadShut.**

**Haji, here. I was very pleased with this chapter. I was rather entertained, and it seems that perhaps DeadShut and I think along the same lines. I do certainly hope I can write the next chapter as well as DeadShut wrote this one.**

**Disclaimer: I'm sure not every douche bag in the world watches Two and a Half Men while being sucked off. (I thought it was a nice touch.) And we don't own Kingdom Hearts either.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Christopher "Cloud" Strife was dragging on a cigarette, looking out across the street while the sun was calling it a fucking day and heading on down for the night, and thinking. Thinking about Namine. He must've seen the chick naked a thousand times, but he could never remember any details for fantasizing later. Not that he would want to fantasize anyways…not like that. Cloud knew how it was; he was the "bad guy", because he had to do some underground shit and work for the likes of Terra…but he rarely perceived himself to be bad. He never hurt anyone. He wasn't a thug, like the people he worked with were. He just needed fast money, and Terra was good at that.

But he also stayed because of her. _Her_. Namine. God, how Cloud wanted to take her far, far away from this sonofabitch's house, from this sonofabitch's _city_. Because Terra _did_ own a lot of things in good ol' D.C. Cloud hated it. Terra did not deserve half of the things he owned, especially not Namine.

Cloud had never spoken to her directly, as he was almost completely incapable of doing so. Whenever she entered the same room he was in within Terra's shitty little house, he would blush furiously and start panicking about what he looked like and if how he looked was cool and if his hair was doing that spiky-thing that a lot of girls liked…But it didn't matter, because whenever he would see her, the girl would go directly to Terra and suck him off. Like Cloud wasn't even there.

Like he wasn't even _there_.

Cloud sighed and flicked his cigarette out onto Terra's lawn. It glowed in the wet grass for a moment, then died. He thought about Namine and shuddered. Why was it that assholes like Terra got the girl, while guys like Cloud had to sit and watch? Why was the girl he loved degrading herself in front of him on a regular basis? And why was Cloud the only one who seemed to actually _appreciate_ Namine's existence?

He had confided to Ven that he liked the pretty little artist, and Ven misunderstood, going off on a joking spree that Cloud wanted to get into the pants of some "diseased whore". Furious and in retaliation, Cloud had hinted to Terra that Ven was thinking about stealing half of the coke they had rounded up, and ditching them to head for Chicago and start a little dealing enterprise of his own there. It was a lie, but Terra would have to eventually believe it, because Ven kept trying to score his own little share of coke off of Terra's customers or friends.

Ven was dead, now. Terra acted upon his suspicion and shot the fucker in the head. Cloud didn't care. Cloud was over it.

With the only person who knew of his infatuation with Namine out of the way, Cloud knew that now was the time to act. He had to get her _out_ of here. Tonight. He had bought a couple of train tickets, and _he_ was gonna head to Chicago. With her. He looked down at his wristwatch…nine o'clock.

He stood up and turned to open the front door as quietly as possible, but when the barrel of a stranger's gun pressed against the back of his head, he let out a low groan.

"Alright," he whispered. "Alright, you got me. Please, just hear me out about what's going on…"

"Shut up," said the stranger.

"No!" whispered another voice harshly. "The guy might have information that we can use before we go in. Tell me your name, son."

"Christopher," said Cloud, trembling in fright. "Are you the cops?"

"Somewhat," replied the other voice. "Do you have anything we can use against this guy?"

"Yes," said Cloud instantly. "Oh, yes…"

* * *

Terra was sitting on his couch watching _Two and a Half Men_ and getting sucked off by Namine. Leon sat in the corner, watching them, a pop-up tent clearly visible through his baggy jeans.

Terra turned to him and smiled devilishly, "Whip it out, man. Just whip it out. I'll let you have a go at her in just a bit." He looked down at the girl between his legs and said, "Moan, honey." When she didn't, he pulled her forward, choking her. "I said _moan_."

She gave a low grunt. He slapped her ass in punishment. Tears ran down her eyes, and Terra threw his head back and laughed; those tears would make good lube.

He looked up to see Cloud come in, accompanied by two others, one of whom had a gun pointed at the back of his best cutter's head. Terra's mouth dropped open into a gape. Leon cried, "Holy _shit_!" and pulled out his own pistol, only to be shot in the torso by the other man. Leon fell off his chair and onto the floor, screaming in agony. The man stepped to him and covered his mouth with a piece of silver tape, afterwards putting his gun to Leon's head. Terra panicked, for he wasn't armed, unless you could count the limb between his legs as a weapon…which it could not be called even in a joking manner.

"The fuck is this shit?" cried Terra, throwing Namine off of him. She hit her head on the coffee table, and Cloud let out an indignant cry.

Neither of the two men spoke. They were burly, and each wore suits of dark green. They turned as a third uninvited guest made his way into the living room.

The third man smiled and said in a mannerly voice, "Terra Hopsfield. Very nice to meet you."

Terra smiled in recognition.

"Senator Mouse," he said. "Nice to meet you, too. What brings you to my humble abode? Not in a very political mood this evening?"

"Not in the slightest. More in the persuasive mood."

"And exactly _what_ are you persuading me into?"

"Letting your obsession with Riku go."

Terra's smile fell into a sneer. "I cannot do that."

"Then," said Mick, helping himself to a seat on Terra's good chair. "We have a problem."

"I don't see how this concerns you," said Terra darkly. "You're a god forsaken _Senator_! You can't just come in and…and…"

Mick stood up instantly and pulled out a gun of his own, pressing it against Terra's forehead. Terra scowled. Mick scowled right back.

"If you think I'm wearing my political-hat tonight, you're dead fucking wrong," said Mick ominously. "American law is an idea. Right now, you and I are both outside of that idea in a situation of our own. If you want to bring American laws into this household, then I will happily call the police about your little coke operation, plus the fact that you have been forcing sexual activities onto this girl, here."

"How the _fuck_ do you-?"

"-know this? Because I have my recourses," said Mick. He looked at Cloud. Cloud looked away, going pale.

Terra's mouth worked, but no words came out. Finally, he screamed, "_You_? Cloud, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you? I'll kill you! You asshole! You fucking cock-holstering son of a-"

"Enough," growled Mick. "Christopher here is twice the man _you'll_ ever be, Terra. If you ask me, he deserves this empire you've set yourself up with. And you? I think you deserve this poor girl's position." He indicated Namine, who flushed furiously.

One of Mick's boys let Cloud go gently. Cloud slowly walked over to Namine and helped her off the floor.

Mick told the two, "You two can leave now. Feel free to go wherever you please; Terra cannot hurt you anymore."

"Like hell I can't," spat the crime lord. He looked at Cloud and Namine as they walked towards the front door. "You fuckers have given me one hell of a problem, but it's _nothing_ compared to what I'm gonna do to _you_. I'll be seeing you again. Soon. _Real_ soon."

They hurried outside. Terra watched them go, nostrils flaring, face turning beet-colored. He turned to Mick.

"You've just cost me the best cutter around, and the best cock-sucker around. I hope you're happy, _Senator_."

Mick smiled delightfully and said, "Actually, I'm overjoyed to see two souls freed from your disgusting clutches."

"I have other guys, y'know. Big guys."

"Yeah? Well, I think _my_ 'guys' can handle it. You and your friend here have already met Don and Goofy. They got you vulnerable remarkably quickly, wouldn't you say? They're the best of the best."

"Your fucking lapdogs."

"Which would make your bodyguards…what, exactly?

"Friends."

"Right," laughed Mick. "Right. That's a laugh, Terra."

"Are you gonna put me in jail?"

Mick strode towards the door where Cloud and Namine had just left through. Terra wanted to fucking kill the cocky bastard.

"No," said the Senator. "That would be horribly counterproductive. I want to use you as a tool. Consider yourself under my operations at destroying the Heartless gang."

Terra scoffed. "The _Heartless_? That's your game, Senator? Jesus, I'd figure a guy like you would have more going on for him. Young, politically-involved…you're a lot like me in some ways."

"I agree, actually, although our goals on the grand scheme of things differ incredibly. I wish to destroy the Heartless for I see them as a great threat to humanity, while you probably would want them destroyed only for your own personal gain. Well, it doesn't matter; you're going to help me get rid of 'em. Consider your entire operation under my employ."

"That's impossible," said Terra, bewildered. "I…uh…I don't _own_ most of this empire, man."

Mick frowned. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm…I just distribute what I'm given. I'm an employee myself."

"For who?"

"Someone."

Silence. Mick just stared at Terra, mind racing furiously. Leon, who was still on the ground, had stopped thrashing and was looking at Terra with a mixture of shock and betrayal; he had thought he was employed by the Biggest of the Big. But Terra had been working for someone else the entire time? _Who_?

Then, Mick said, "I don't care, anyways. You're done working for whoever it is. Get your guys, get your, uh, 'products', and haul ass back to New York. We gotta deal?"

"Fuck no!" cried Terra indignantly. He stood up. Don and Goofy turned their guns onto him, faces devoid of any emotion. He stood his ground and continued, "What the fuck do I get in return? Why do I have to just give and go?"

"Because," replied Mick, teeth clenched. "If you _don't_, my 'boys' here will beat you fucking senseless and leave you to die here in this shitty little house. Rest assured, if you were to join me, you would be given a nice penthouse in the city, and I will allow you to freely distribute your narcotics to any customers you may have in that area…for the time being. You will, however, risk your life and the lives of your employees to help me drag out the Heartless leader and end his entire regime. If not, I'll do worse than kill you. I'll strip you of any authority and put you out on the fucking _streets_, Terra. You'll be taking it up the ass for a Big Mac every night. That'll be _your_ game."

"Looks like I don't have much of a choice, then," snarled Terra.

"You don't. Oh, and once I leave, don't you _dare_ try to order a hit on me. That would be a foolish thing to do, Terra."

"What's stoppin' me, _Senator_? What would stop me from gettin' a guy to putting a bullet into your skull?"

Mick gave another poisonous grin.

"Well," he said. "The fact that your name is typed into the 'Top Most Wanted' folder right at the moment is a good reason to do what I say, isn't it? All Don or Goofy here would have to do is press 'Enter', and everyone would be looking for your ass in order to get a hefty sum of cash from my office personally. Do you know any 'friends' of yours who _wouldn't_ turn your sorry ass in for a hundred thousand bucks?"

Terra's mouth dropped open and he clenched his fists.

Mick continued, "Keep in mind that I do not _need_ you, Terra. You're disposable to me. But it would be a nice benefit to have you working with me. Don't try anything funny, because you're not so super-valuable that I'd hesitate to blow your damn head off. Let's go, gentlemen."

The Senator and his bodyguards left the household, and Terra and Leon looked at each other in amazement. The screwers had just gotten themselves screwed.

* * *

The Keyblade shook violently like a Tasered criminal, and Sora was forced to drop it onto the marble floor of the file room. The baton began to glow and rotate like a spin-the-bottle game. A single folder from one of the filing cabinets came flying over and attached itself to the blade of the weapon. The Keyblade stopped vibrating, and the trio stared at it, stunned.

"Open it," Kairi whispered. Sora nodded, bent down, and picked the folder up. It was bulked with various papers. His hands trembled as he pulled out the folder's contents and put them on the table.

The front page on this stack of papers was a white sheet of paper with a black emblem on it: an emblem that looked to Sora like a heart made out of two crossing axes. Underneath this logo were the words: _Ad Initium._ Sora frowned and handed the sheet of paper to Riku, who looked at it with a troubled expression.

"Mean anything to you?" asked Sora. Riku shook his head. Sora divided the stack of papers up in three, uneven ways, and passed them to his friends. They all began to look through.

"My God," croaked Riku. "We need to pocket _all_ of this."

Sora agreed. Inside this stack of papers were pictures of humanoid creatures that looked like horribly distorted humans shaking hands with President Truman. They were much taller and skinnier, with smaller heads and beady eyes. The photograph was no product of any sort of image-editor out there; it was legitimate. And it frightened Sora. Another photograph showed a picture of the Keyblade. The next page was a "Wanted"-poster with a man named Doctor Viktor Vanitas. Underneath was a description, saying, "As a Russian spy, Dr. Vanitas has stolen military secrets and is responsible for the deaths of innocent soldiers at…" the rest being faded away from being so old. A smaller picture showed Vanitas wearing a strange mask, with the heart-shape emblazoned on it. Sora pocketed these two pages, when the door opened. Amber stood there, arms crossed impatiently.

"Times not up yet," Riku reminded her.

"I don't care," she said. "Do you know who's coming here? The President of the United States. If people came in here and saw you three fuckin' around, my ass would be grass. Hit the road."

"Oh, fuck you!" roared Riku.

"Nothin' I can do about it, hon," said Amber, pouting. "Now come _on_. I'm off work now, anyways. We'll leave together." Her eyes rested on Sora and moved up and down his body. Sora swallowed a lump in his throat.

They walked out of the Library of Congress, and out into the night. It was getting a bit chilly. The trio spotted the red CTS, and headed for it. Sora was caught by Amber's long-fingered hands that dug into him like spears.

"Where do you think _you're_ goin', honey?" she whispered into his ear. Panic fluttered in his chest.

"Uh…with my friends," he replied nervously.

"_I'm_ your friend, now," she said and dragged him towards a roomy white van that was parked far away from the Library. Sora looked over his shoulder for help, but Riku was staring after him sadly while Kairi looked completely and utterly infuriated. Sora turned back around only to see the white van's back door opening, and feeling himself getting pushed inside.

The van reeked of incense and various perfumes. Amber hopped in next to him and closed to door behind her. Her face went in between his legs instantly, and she started to breathe and moan on his crotch. Sora felt his face grow hot, but closed his eyes and thought of Kairi as this incredibly unpleasant vulture had her way with him.

After a couple minutes of this, she looked up red-faced and said, "We're going to have _lots_ of fun."

"Well," said Sora, teeth clenched with rage. "_You_ are."

She laughed like a harpy and pulled down his pants. He didn't know what to expect and his mind was racing with possible outcomes, but none of them included her _punching_ him in the balls. He yelped in shock and pain, clutching his aching groin, breathing in sharply with the agony. He felt her shadow over him, even in this darkness felt her presence, and soon she was biting on his shoulder with much force.

"My…_God_!" he yelled. "Arrrgh!"

"Shh, baby, shhh," she whispered into his ear. She laid him on his back, then _bit into his gentiles_. Sora screamed. _This_ was how Amber had fun? Hurting people? Not snuggling on a bed, or kissing, or any of that? Just these painful, painful games of torture?

His jeans, which were rolled up by his ankles, were vibrating. Amber noticed.

"You carry a dildo around?" she breathed. He was dimly aware she was naked and pleasuring herself. "That's _hot_, babe. Maybe I won't stick it up your ass if you suck these tits like there's no tomorrow. Maybe I won't stick it up your ass if you don't scream when I do _this_…"

She bit down on his right nipple, bit down hard. Sora clenched his teeth.

_Enough is enough!_ He thought angrily.

He grabbed the vibrating Keyblade and saw that it was hot with some hidden energy, much like it was when he had killed the man at Club Heartless. Sora looked at it, then looked at Amber-who was staring at the baton in glee, thinking it _was_ a sex device-and pressed the side of it against her stomach. The smell of burning flesh filled the van, now, and Amber moaned in utter delight. He pushed her onto her back, and watched her pass out from the pain. He pulled up his pants, and made his way out of the van.

Riku and Kairi were leaning against the CTS, looking troubled. When they saw Sora wielding his alien weapon, they looked frightened.

"No worries," he said hastily. "I didn't kill her. Just knocked her out. Please, let's get the fuck out of here." He looked at Kairi. "I'm so sorry. I just wanted to help. I didn't know."

Kairi hugged him tightly. He smiled.

Riku smiled, too.

"Let's get out of here. And, please, promise me we will _never_ have to do that again. Any of us."

* * *

Roxas opened the swinging doors to the kitchen and into the smell of delicious-smelling Italian food. He saw Xigbar cooking up something in a white apron. The attire was so unlike the assassin that Roxas could hardly suppress a laugh. Xigbar turned and smiled.

"Get it out of your system, you little asshole," he said. Roxas laughed heartily. "The dining room is in the other room, through the door in the corner. Most people are there. Where's the girlfriend?"

"Getting dressed. She fucking _loves_ it here."

"Don't we all."

Roxas followed Xigbar's directions and entered the dining room. It was incredible. The entire room was completely made out of stained glass. Multi-colored tiles of bright hues covered the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. There were no patterns or images; just random hues. Roxas assumed it was a symbolic way of showing the Organization was a Church, but a Church ready to preach something new, something never-before heard of in any religious structure. The dining table was long and made of wood, but was draped in a lovely violet tablecloth, complete with golden candles burning in the center. Glass plates, forks, and knives were set upon the table neatly. Fourteen seats had been arranged, and six of them were occupied. At the end of the table, farthest from the door, sat Xehanort. Axel sat close to the opposite side of his Superior. Zexion was sitting in his seat, located diagonally from Axel's, reading a thick book. Saix sat in the chair closest to Xehanort, and he, too, was reading a lengthy piece of literature. Lexaeus sat next to Zexion, looking impatiently at his empty plate, as if his growling stomach and fierce gaze would magically spawn food out of thin air. Larxene sat on the other side of Zexion, staring at him intently, a little smile playing on her soft lips. Lastly, Xaldin sat next to Saix, close to the Superior, face as blank as any bodyguard's could expected to be. At the sight of Roxas entering the room, Xehanort smiled widely.

"Ah, the Chaos Theorist arrives!" he called dramatically. "Please, sit anywhere. It was initially set up so that we were to sit in order based on our Organization-numbers, but I think it would be much more fun if we can choose to sit where we want. I _adore_ sitting at the head of table, Roxas, you've no idea. I just love to see all my beautiful friends' faces."

Axel replied, although the Superior was not talking to him, "Beautiful faces? Sir, no offense, but have you _seen_ Saix? He looks like fucking Two-Face."

Xehanort and Saix both burst into hearty laughter. Roxas joined in, and took a seat next to Axel.

"Perhaps," said Dr. Xehanort once his laughter had dried up and a sly grin was all that was left. "Axel here would like to tell you what these dinners are all about."

"Oh, of course, sir," said Axel in mock-kiss-assery. "See, Roxas, this is our monthly group-therapy session, which includes but is not limited to: Xigbar burning our ravioli like a douche bag, Zexion psychologically tormenting us to get a quick erection, Lexaeus eating all of the fucking food, Saix continuing the utter ass-raping of our brains by explaining the vastness of our universe, and Superior giving a lecture on world domination, which gives _me_ a hard-on."

Zexion frowned disdainfully over his book and said, "I am not _psychologically tormenting_ you, Axel. I'm merely educating you on the ways of the mind so you don't look like a _complete_ dolt once we've reached Kingdom Hearts."

"I'll just shut the fuck up when I meet our fellow pioneers from other universes."

"You can't shut the fuck up _now_. What makes you think you'll shut up then?"

"Fair enough."

Roxas was crying with laughter. Axel smiled at him.

Five minutes later, and the rest of the Members came down from their rooms. The seats were completely filled, with the exception of two: one was for Lily, the other for another Member who Roxas had not met yet.

"Luxord," explained Axel. "Is off getting cash the dirty way: gambling. He's rarely here, and I've only seen him once or twice, but he contributes quite a bit. The fucking conformist asshole…"

The doors swung open again, and in came "Xion". Her black hair had been straightened, and she was wearing a black dress that seemed to match the Organization Member's robes. She looked absolutely stunning, like a little Gothic pixie, and Roxas stood up immediately in instinctive respect. Pete McLean had been quite a foe, but nothing McLean did made Roxas as intimidated as his girlfriend's appearance did right now.

"You look…" he began.

"_Beautiful_!" boomed Xehanort enthusiastically. "Brothers-and sister-meet our new guest: Xion! Isn't she just a wonderful creature? Let's give her a round of applause!"

The table did so, some Members clapping a little unenthusiastically, but it was enough to make Xion beam and blush as she took a seat next to Roxas. The rest of the table then erupted into conversation. Roxas turned to Xion and put an arm around her.

"…You _do_ look beautiful," he whispered. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Get a _fucking_ room," said Axel. Roxas and Xion laughed nervously; they were actually sharing a room now.

Xigbar came in with the food (which, much to general shock, was _not_ burned as Axel had predicted based off of experience), and they all greedily consumed ravioli, garlic knots, garlic bread, and salad. As the rest of the Organization ate and frivolously conversed with one another, Roxas took the time to go back to this afternoon. When he had spotted McLean, dead and faceless, he had felt pity because the situation seemed to be that McLean was a corrupted child who had died a horrible death. Now, however, Roxas felt as though McLean was a corrupted _man_ who had died a horrible death. And his hand was cut off by _another_ man, who was now sharing a room with a woman in a facility run and organized by a group of _men_ and _women_. High school was over for him, surely, and so was childhood. Roxas had never felt so mature in his entire life. He used to spend nights in his room at his parents' house, browsing the Internet and talking to his girlfriend over the phone. Now he had a _career_, a career in anarchy, and he was sharing a room with the _woman_ he loved. Childhood was over, innocence gone, time to push forward and think maturely, like Zexion did…but that could sometimes be hard with Axel around. Didn't matter; even adults acted like idiots sometimes. Axel just did it more often than most others.

And with these new thoughts came the loosening of the bolted fears and depressions that had plagued Roxas' mind for so long. His mind felt reborn, like a new blank page of a seemingly filled notebook had been found.

When dinner was over, Xehanort stood up and clinked his glass.

"Alright, all! The time has come for you to be given your monthly assignments. You will report to Saix on a weekly basis, as usual, to give information on the progression of your assignments. If you do not complete your assignments, you will not move onto a new one, and you will continue to work on the one you fucked up until you get it right." He produced a stack of index cards from underneath his robes. "I will now read off your duties one-by-one.

"Saix; your assignment is, as always, to keep order within Oblivion Labs, and make sure you're up-to-date on everyone else's assignments. To the rest of you: when I am not here, Saix is in control. But I think you already know that.

"Xigbar; this month, you will need to _attack_ the black market with the ferocity of a lion and the stealth of a panther. We need more shipments of weapons, preferably explosives.

"Xaldin; you're coming with me to assist on duties throughout the rest of the country. Nobody is to ask questions.

"Vexen; continue your research on this new discovery you've found regarding the Nobody Virus.

"Lexaeus; pay attention, now, because this is important. I need you to scope out possible locations to first release the Virus once it's been fully bred. You are to take your old camping supplies and play nomad, going from place to place. The scummier the town, the better.

"Zexion; you're going on a mission to Hawaii, starting tonight, so pack your things. This mission is also important. Many towns in Hawaii are impoverished, and crime rates have been higher than ever. With the recent development within the research of the Nobody Virus, I do believe you know your targets are pregnant women. Smuggle the Virus to Hawaii, infect perhaps five pregnant woman, and you will return to these women every month to check up on their behaviors and health patterns.

"Marluxia; I have a list of people I need you to kill. See me after dinner.

"Demyx; I need you to find Luxord, ASAP. I haven't seen him or heard from him in a very long time, and this concerns me. You are to start once we all leave the dining room. Do not return to the Labs until you have the gambler with you.

"Larxene; I could use some more information on Aqua, that friend of yours. She seems to be the ventriloquist to all the puppets of crime New York has ever seen in the past five years. Find out everything about her that you can. I will expect an impressive report once you've come back.

"Which leaves Roxas and Axel. This may sound risky you, but I think you can handle it; I want you two to run around New York City for five days and unleash hell upon it. I have made masks for you to wear, and if you follow the directions I will give you after dinner closely, you will not get caught. Axel, you are to attack Brooklyn and Queens; Roxas, your sole target is Manhattan. I want to see you on every news station, swinging those Keyblades around like no tomorrow.

"Xion; I am giving you the choice of either staying here in the Labs, which will mostly be unoccupied, or to accompany Zexion to Hawaii. I apologize for reuniting you with your beloved and then ripping you two apart again, but duty calls, and you cannot join Roxas in his chaotic expedition, for I fear it could be the death of you. Zexion's mission, however, is the least violent, and I think you'd enjoy Hawaii. I know that, since you are not an actual _member_ of the Organization, this all must be very confusing for you, but you will find out what our goals are once they have been reached.

"Now; any questions?"

Unsurprisingly, there were none.

* * *

**There is so much that I could do with this, but I do believe there were two important points that need addressing. I shall address them. And also, I need to write Chapter 33 of Krystahl. I'm stuck again, but not with the idea. I just need the right words...*Le Sigh***

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	13. Monday

**Here you go, lovely readers. You deserved this whooping document of pure bliss. I just looked at the number of views and it's over a thousand. Hooray! I feel so happy, and I would think Deadshut would think so too. We wish to extend our thanks to the farthest corners of the world to our friends and fans in other countries. Hope you are all having a nice day. Anyway...**

**I hope you feel the terror and fear about to be unleashed. I hope you feel the twinge of excitement that makes you imagine just what horrors await the unsuspecting public. And I hope you feel Aqua's presence as you read this. For the world is about to experience the most unbelieveable act of controlled chaos since the beginning of World War II. As for my partner...**

**DeadShut here. The worlds are entwining.**

**This War is ours. Enjoy.**

* * *

Angelina "Aqua" Godfrey was indeed the most powerful woman on the East Coast. Her reign in all things drug and black-market related extended much farther than people could even begin to speculate. Everyone referred to her as "Someone". Even when small facets of her empire would crumble in on themselves, the news could only report that "Someone" was behind it.

Aqua, like every other eighteen to thirty-five year old American female, had a job, and an apartment, and had some sort of affinity for expensive things. However, Aqua's job was normally that of a messenger, traveling throughout New York, delivering messages, and collecting things for her company, Male Inc., an internet dating website—which she just happen to own. And though she submerged herself in illicit activities, she was not so far above everyone that she could not do things legitimately. Though, in actuality, she was above everyone.

Every morning, she checked her messages, made mental notes of who to call, and who to contact for handling any other "business" she had to attend to. She would drink her morning coffee, and then get ready for work and hop on the subway. She led a very average life to the outside eye, and did a damn good job of keeping her private life private.

Because of her status as Queen Pin of New York, she often had to watch her back for those who knew who she was. Most of the time, she wasn't worried. Not too many people knew she was that "Someone" that was on the lips of every police officer in the state. That "Someone", who would be a career making land if they could catch her. _If _they could catch her.

Aqua sat on the train, frowning deeply. The person in front of her bobbed their head back and forth, listening to some kind of IPod. She thought she recognized the blond hair. The way it was spiked upwards, but then reminded herself that Valentin "Ven" Claus was dead.

Terra had arrogantly killed him. Over a petty dispute. And he had not had any clearance from her, or any of her closest subordinates. When she first heard about it, she was absolutely livid. She had to leave work early, claiming that she had had a massive headache, which was partially true. The first thing she did was call Terra, and utterly humiliate him as badly as one could over the phone with a little less than few hundred miles between her and her target.

Terra had explained himself effortlessly, as usual, and told her that he wanted to recruit Riku. Aqua Okayed it warily. Even though she had known about Riku when he was coming up, and had fucked him once before, she was still untrusting of anyone recruited by anyone but her. Her trip to D.C was about establishing a relationship. And that was beside the fact that she had fucked him only a few days prior.

Aqua rubbed her temples to the same rhythm the subway swayed back and forth. Riku had missed his initiation, and she had been looking forward to possibly playing with him afterwards, but she had to get back to New York. Her job was calling.

As the train came to a stop, Aqua stood, collected her things hurriedly, and continued through the maze of New York's underground. She had to make a quick pit stop before she actually went to work. As she made her way above ground, she glanced around at the people swarming by. Many of them had sweaters and thin coats hugging them closely. The telltale signs of autumn's approach.

Across the street from the subway entrance, a vendor sat, idling away, constantly contributing to the already clogged air of The City That Never Sleeps. Aqua huffed to herself and strode to the vendor, grabbing a bag of candy and throwing a dollar on the counter.

"Nice weather isn't it?" Aqua said, smiling and laughing awkwardly. The vendor didn't respond.

Aqua put her bag down on the sidewalk and leaned into the tiny window. "Listen, I'm getting a little nervous. I have to go to D.C. I heard there was a problem. A terrible crime's been committed."

The vendor, again, didn't respond.

"I need some information," Aqua said, smiling again. "Do you have a newspaper?"

The vendor tossed a newspaper through his window. Aqua caught it and left, without picking up her bag. She folded the newspaper under her arm and opened the door to Male Inc. She had absolutely no intentions of returning to D.C. But, she had put her message out, and a vast migration was bound to happen.

Aqua reached her desk and sat down. A woman from one cubicle down poked her head up over the gray wall and smiled.

"Ah, good morning, Angelina!"

"Morning!" Aqua responded. "Any calls?"

"Just one," the woman said, handing her an envelope. "They want you to take this to some glass-blowing place in Harlem. They said it's really important. Something about the owner wanting some dick."

Aqua took the envelope. "Thanks, but you know what the higher ups said about talking about clients that way."

The woman shrieked a laugh. "And I told those cocksuckers what would happen if they fired me. Suddenly, people wouldn't be getting important phone calls if you know what I mean. I'm sure the wives would love to know what color the underwear of the mistress is."

"Be good," Aqua teased. "I'll be back."

"Oh, and a Terra Hopsfield left a message for you."

Aqua froze. "When?"

"About an hour before you got here. I told him to call back in a few hours. Do you want me to call him?"

"No, I'll take care of it." Aqua frowned.

"Boyfriend issues?"

"Something like that."

Aqua put the envelope in her Male Inc. messenger bag and left the building. She hailed a taxi after walking up the street a block. While at work, she never took a taxi. Taxis were just too expensive in New York. But she had an important phone call to make, and it couldn't be delayed.

As soon as she was in the cab, she growled. The cab driver turned around. "Where to?"

"Just drive." Aqua commanded. She was beginning her transformation into Queen Bitch. She pulled out her cell phone and pushed a number.

The phone rang several times before a tired sounding Terra answered the phone. "Hullo?"

"Terra?"

"Oh, shit!" Terra was suddenly wide awake. "Aqua! I—"

"I don't want to hear it."

Terra was silent.

"What happened?"

Terra huffed as he thought of a lie. If Aqua knew he had been forced into working for Senator Mouse, he was better off taking it in the ass for a Big Mac. "I…had a dispute with a former employee."

Aqua trembled. The gangster in her was itching to blow Terra's fucking head all over the sidewalk. Her finger twitched instinctively. "And?"

"It's all taken care of," Terra said, gaining more confidence. "I'll have a new cutter by the afternoon. Don't you worry…"

Aqua let out a hollow sounding sigh. She was trying her best not to kill the cab driver just because he was there. She could see he had a little 'A' shaped tattoo just below his ear. It was faded, but it was still definable. She was safe. She crossed her legs and opened the newspaper that the vendor had given her.

"That's not what this morning's paper is telling me," Aqua said.

Terra stammered. "Well…I…uh…I…"

"You're beginning to run out of excuses, hon.," Aqua clicked her teeth. "I'm getting a little bit pissed off with you."

Terra sounded panicked. "Wait…I've got this."

"Did you brand Riku yet?"

Terra paused. "No, but…"

"He gets a red letter."

Terra's paling face was audible, even over the phone. "Please…Aqua."

"I can not deal with failure, Terra." Aqua said slowly. "We used to be friends, but I'm tired of having to cover for you."

"I…"

Silence.

Aqua breathed quietly. Inside she was fuming. Terra had fucked up. Big time. She was going to have to deal with it personally. Something that she hadn't had to do for a long time. She gathered her thoughts before she ended the conversation. "I want you in New York. Today. Bring Riku."

She hung up the phone. The cab driver coughed.

"Rough morning?"

Aqua folded her arms and stared out the window. "No rougher than any other."

"Anything I can do?"

Aqua snorted. "Not unless you can handle D.C."

The cab driver coughed again. "Sorry. Too much for me."

Aqua sighed. "Aww well. It was worth a shot."

The driver waved his hand. "Now, don't give up hope just yet. I think I might know a guy."

Aqua frowned, "Unless he can start now, I'm not interested."

The cab driver chuckled until he coughed again. "My son. He's a smart guy. He could do it."

Aqua looked up at the driver. "Trying to get a shoe in?"

"Trying to pay for debt." The driver said. "We have a lot of it."

Aqua took the small piece of paper that the cab driver handed back. She dialed the phone number on the little slip and waited for an answer.

"Hello?"

Aqua paused, thinking carefully. "Ian?"

"Y-Yes?"

"I'm someone who would like you to take Washington D.C."

The voice on the other end sputtered. "R-Really?"

"Yes, you start now," Aqua said. "Whatever it is you're doing, you're done. Call this number when you have arrived. Your crew will be waiting for you. I expect complete control."

"Understood."

"You are now, Ienzo." Aqua breathed. "And I have a message for your predecessor."

As the taxi dropped Aqua off in front of the glass-blowing place in Harlem, a small grin played about her lips. Now that she had to fix her teetering empire, she realized that she really was a Godfrey.

A free God.

* * *

As soon as Terra had hung up the phone, he panicked. Aqua sounded calm, and that usually meant he was going to get it. He could bear the thought of having Cloud betray him. But, he couldn't handle what his imagination was forcing Aqua to do to him. He could only imagine a horrifying series of broken bones and missing body parts. If he couldn't worm his way out of this, he would beg for mercy and plead with God herself to let him live long enough to attempt suicide.

He had heard Riku return the previous night with his fuck buddies. Senator Mouse had warned him about his obsession, but there was no way Terra was going to let his last asset be taken away. He had worked too hard to get one of the most connected runners on the eastern seaboard. He just couldn't let that be in vain.

Terra's scheming weasel of a mind was hatching a grand plot even as he packed his things for New York. Leon couldn't go. He had to stay in D.C until his gunshot wounds had healed and the story blew over. And in a city up to its eyes in politics, not one person knew how long that would take.

A roughly kicked the door to Riku's room open and stormed in. He had to keep his tough exterior in tact, or his whole plan would be ruined.

"Get the fuck up," Terra roared.

Riku opened his eyes slowly. He had had a strange dream, and Terra's banter was already getting on his nerves. "Go fuck yourself."

Terra pulled him out of bed and onto the floor, "I'm going back to New York with you."

Sora stood up. "Why?" He didn't like Terra, so it was natural to be apprehensive about his accompanying them.

Terra turned to him. "Because, I have business to take care of. And you are being a nosy bitch. Shut the fuck up."

Riku stretched and glared at him. "You have no business with us. I'm sure you have plenty to do here." He paused. "If this is about my initiation, I already called Aqua about it."

Terra froze. "You did?"

Riku nodded. "She didn't sound too good. I think she might be sick."

Terra smirked, trying to roll his fear off his back. "That's too bad."

Riku gathered the pile of papers that they had taken from the Library of Congress. Terra ignored him, wishing he could go back to the night before. Mick had fucked him. His whole operation. He had nothing now.

Except for Riku.

Riku packed the papers into a bag and slung it over his shoulder. "We have to go meet someone. If you want to go to New York, go right ahead. I may be your second in command, but I sure as hell don't work for you."

Terra sucked in a heated breath. "I'll see you in New York then."

"Fuck you."

Terra pushed past Riku, feeling defeated, but not letting it show. Riku was slipping out of his grasp and he didn't like that. He turned his frustrations towards Aqua, knowing that it was on her command that he had lost his small empire. He knew she was pissed about him killing Ven, and she was getting him back for it.

But, he had to stay one step ahead of her. He had to break _her. _Ladies fucking first.

He flipped open his cell phone as he hopped in his car and drove to the bus station. He had arrived in a timely fashion, just in time to catch the next bus to New York. He was waiting for the last of the passengers to leave, when a young man of maybe twenty years came up to him.

"Are you Terra?"

Terra flicked the cigarette he was smoking away. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm Ienzo," the man said. He blinked slowly. He looked extremely intelligent. "I'll be watching your city until you return."

Terra scoffed. "Says who?"

"Someone."

Terra flinched inside. Aqua had already sent a replacement. But, maybe he wasn't, and he really was just babysitting. Terra grabbed a hold of that wish and tucked into the back of his mind.

"She also wanted me to give you a message."

Terra looked away. "I'm listening."

"She says that you are more trouble than you're worth." Ienzo paused for a second. "And a man named Riku has been promoted above you."

"What?"

Ienzo nodded. "You have also been labeled as a snitch, and you'll be lucky to live long enough to make it to her meeting place."

"But…"

"She knows about the Senator. She knows about Cloud, and she knows you are trying to run."

Terra panicked. "I'm not running. I'm heading to New York right now, you shithead. You tell her that she's a fucking dead bitch."

Ienzo looked behind him, at two men who were holding a sign with his name on it. "You have twenty four hours to go before a hit's been put on you. Six of those hours will be spent traveling. So, you really have eighteen."

Terra trembled.

"I suggest you pick a religion." Ienzo finished. And, with that, he turned on his heals and left.

Terra was reeling. His fate was sealed. Aqua wanted him gone. And he was now wanted by everyone under her command. He pulled his hair out and ruffled it, hiding the small 'A' just below his ear.

He got on the bus thinking of only one thing. His survival. He knew that if he even made it to Aqua alive, he was going to have to kill the bitch. That would ensure his survival. If he killed her, he would gain control of her kingdom. Simple.

As the bus pulled away, Terra noticed Ienzo standing at the gate. He made a hand gesture that sank Terra's heart further. A gunshot to the head.

The clock had started.

* * *

Mick's Washington house was much grander than the penthouse in New York. The lawn was perfectly manicured, the hedges were clean cut, and the door looked like it had just been painted red.

Riku and Sora were dressed sharply. In dress shirts and ties. Riku had put Aqua's payment to good use. They all looked like they lived in the neighborhood, or at least were rich enough to visit.

Kairi held onto Sora's hand. She was wearing a dress that was flowing in the slight wind. "Did he say it was okay to come here?"

Riku nodded. "Wife is at work. Kid at school. We don't have much time."

Riku led them to the door and knocked four times. It was opened instantly by Don, who looked impossibly tired.

"Mornin." He greeted gruffly. His accent was still thick.

"Moring, Don." Riku said. "We need to talk to Mick. Now."

Don opened the door wider and let them in. "He's in his office. Upstairs to the left."

Riku thanked him and jumped up the stairs. Goofy was lying on the couch, snoring softly. Sora looked around the house as he made his way up the immaculate staircase. The tiles were perfectly aligned, the furniture, the latest in modern art, and paintings that were worth ten times as much as his parent's house.

"So this is how a Senator lives." Sora mumbled to himself.

He followed Riku into an office that was just as stylish as the rest of the house, though the walls were strangely devoid of family photos and vacations. It almost seemed like everything was too careful. Mick sat at his desk, pouring over files of differing thickness.

"Mick," Riku said.

Mick looked up. A mixture of surprise and concern were etched onto his face. He wasn't the same man Sora had met in Suzie's. He seemed much more stressed and haggard. He hadn't said anything, but Riku dumped the stolen files all over his desk.

"We found these," Riku explained hurriedly. "They are all original. And apparently, there is a huge bounty placed on the head of one, Viktor Vanitas, a Russian spy who did something to American soldiers, though I'm not sure what it was."

Riku shuffled through the papers, continuously talking as he showed them to Mick. "—And there are blueprints somewhere. For this…cube. And it needs the Keyblade to work. Sora…"

Sora pulled the Keyblade out, and Riku took it. "It has a button on the side. When you push it—" He pushed the button and dropped the alien baton, for a liquid fire struck his veins.

Sora picked the Keyblade up, but Riku didn't stop. He merely sucked on his thumb until the pain subsided. "Anyway, it's supposed to unlock encrypted files that can build a machine that leads to… a place called Kingdom Hearts."

Sora's mind began to buzz. It felt like there were dozens of little insects crawling on his brain, and they were all trying to talk to him at the same time. He heard bits of recognizable human speech, but not much more than that. He shook his head and the buzzing dimmed.

Riku was beginning to sound more excited. "And it's been hidden for years."

Mick stopped him. "This is quite an overwhelming discovery, Riku. Which brings me to my next assignment for you."

Riku was breathing rather shallowly. He knew Mick was trying to speak, and under normal circumstances, he would have shut his mouth, but he just couldn't seem to stop thinking. "The Heartless want it."

Mick looked at him and stood. "Riku…please."

"Diz wants it." Riku continued. "He wants it to connect with a computer." He picked up the diagram of the Keyblade. "To use it to create a powerful computer virus. A virus that could poison the Internet and bankrupt the country. He could use it to—"

Mick slammed his hands on his desk. "Riku! Quiet!"

Riku clamped up. Sora and Kairi looked at him in alarm, then looked at each other. Riku blushed, resisting the urge to continue speaking, though it was taking a physical toll on him. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

Mick sighed. "It's quite alright. I'm sorry." He rubbed his temples. "I've just had a rough couple of days. I apologize."

Riku nodded and swallowed. "You were saying?"

There was silence for a long time. Mick sighed, wanting to keep his bearings. "I've been thinking about the kidnapping of Sora's parents. There is just something not right about how it happened. The amount of carnage. It's very unlike the Heartless. They don't usually kill on such a large scale."

Sora winced as the memories of that fateful night flooded back to him. The two men. Seeing Riku for the first time. And the way they took his parents.

"I remember Sora saying he saw someone who looked like Demyx driving the van that left the hotel." Mick continued. His voice was barely breaking through Sora's fogging mind. "I want you to find him. Question him."

"But…" Sora started, but he thought better of it.

"It might not be him." Mick warned. "But that's all we have to go on right now. He's the first step."

Riku nodded, and upon another strong wave of spontaneous speculation, departed abruptly. Sora stayed behind as Kairi rushed after him. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. And he hated himself for feeling something so spiteful. After all, Kairi and Riku had known each other much longer than he knew them, so it was probably natural for her to run after him.

"Sora."

Sora turned to Mick, forgetting his jealousy.

"I need your help," Mick said softly. "But, your missions will become much more dangerous, and you might not like what you will have to do. If you want to back out now, I won't stop you."

Sora paused. Mick was extending him freedom.

"We would still find your parents," Mick continued. "Of course, and we would bring them back to you. I just want to know if you're going to stay or leave. That determines how we will move forward."

"I'm staying," Sora said finally.

He knew the dangers. He knew that if he were to continue, he would have to hurt and possibly kill more people. But, he had formed this unbreakable bond with Kairi. And he wanted to stay with Riku, even if it was just to prove that they weren't alone. He had friends now. Friends that would risk everything they had to help him. And he had to return the favor.

Mick smiled and nodded. "Excellent. I wish you the best of luck."

Mick turned away, which was an obvious dismissal, but Sora had a question burning his soul. "Sir?"

Mick looked at him. "Yes, Sora?"

"Do you think my parents are still alive?" Sora asked hesitantly. "Honestly."

"No," Mick said. "I believe that whoever took them killed them quickly afterwards. But, I may be wrong. There is still hope."

Sora looked down. He didn't say anything, though the first thing he wanted to do was cry. Mick had been after the Heartless for years, and he knew what kind of evil was out there. If he thought that they killed his parents, then his parents were dead.

Sora shuffled out of the room and left the house without another word. Riku and Kairi were standing by the CTS, waiting for him. Riku looked shaken, like something was weighing him down. Kairi had her arm around him, and Sora felt that pang of jealousy again.

"What happened?"

Riku regained his composure and hopped in the driver's seat. "I don't know what came over me." He slammed the door closed and rolled the windows down. "Get in the car."

"Where are we going now?" Kairi asked.

"We're going back to New York," Sora answered. Riku looked at him. "Demyx's next concert is in Queens."

Riku sped down the street. "New York it is."

* * *

Roxas had woken up that morning with a bubble forming in his chest. Xion had gone with Zexion. He had told her to. He didn't want to risk anyone associating her with what he was about to do. He stayed in bed for a good hour before he got out and prepared for the chaos he was going to cause.

He had woken up extremely early. As he entered the kitchen, he noticed Axel leaning over the table, snoring.

_How early did he get up?_

"Hey, Axel." Roxas nudged his friend.

Axel groaned and sat up. "Jesus, what fucking time is it?"

"Time to wreak havoc." Roxas said slyly. "Why were you down here?"

"I was talking to Xehanort last night." He looked around. "Fucker left me here."

Roxas opened the fridge and moved some stuff around. "We needed to get an early start. I was thinking we could hit the first place together. Just to send some kind of message. I dunno, like—Here we are motherfuckers! Run! —Or something like that."

Axel nodded, not really paying attention. "Sounds good. You remember the rules?"

Roxas ran through them in his mind. "Yeah."

Axel left the table and headed to the front foyer. He was smiling. "Then let's get this motherfucking show on the road."

As they sat on the subway—far away from each other of course, they each delved into the sickest, most twisted parts of their minds in order to prepare themselves for their task. Roxas put on a pair of headphones that Demyx had given him especially for his mission. The music that played was sinister, and the screaming reminded Roxas of hatred and spite. The perfect set of emotions to force New York to its knees.

Axel fingered his favorite toy as he watched Roxas from behind. He knew he could blow New York off the face of the Earth, but he was interested in how Roxas was going to use his weapons. Just then, he noticed a woman, with blue highlights laced through black hair. She looked completely normal, just like any other woman, not special in the least. But she exited the train in a hurry.

He dwelled on her for a second. Just for a single second, and he thought that he might just know her. That thought passed away quickly, as his stop came up, and he crawled out of the underground to the streets of Brooklyn.

Oh, the next workweek would be fun.

* * *

**There you go. I bet you can't wait to find out just what happened with Roxas and Axel. You are pining for Terra's punishment, and you just can't wait to find out what will happen to Sora and company. But, too bad, you'll have to wait for DeadShut.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**

**By the by, thank you so much for the thousand views. I can't believe how fast this caught up to Krystahl as far as views are concerned. Thank you so so much. And the mysterious deadShut extends the same thanks. Though, I believe I mentioned that before. I'm just so happy!**


	14. Black and Blue

**_This chapter is dedicated to Chairman Lonestar. Thank you very much for your enthusiasm and support! -DeadShut _**

**Hey, all! DeadShut here! Sorry for the delay; personal shiz and whatnot. To save you the time of being a nosy bastard: let's just say my situation is somewhat similar to Zexion's XD. Except, I'm not an asshole like Zeke Fender. Please, enjoy! This chapter is action-packed and rather fast-paced, so buckle the FUCK up and enjoy the ride! **

**Hello, Haji here. I enjoyed this chapter, but make sure you pay attention. It's full of important stuff.

* * *

  
**

As Terra drove back to his place to get his things, heart hammering away, he thought about graveyards.

Being the ruler of an underground empire so vast and intimidating that people feared the mere utterance of its name, Terra had never been so close to his own death, so he seldom had time to reflect upon it. However, ever since his fall-from-grace just an hour ago, death was all he could think about. He was bleeding in a pool full of sharks, and that concept was so unknown to him that it seemed impossible, unreal. He had never been acquainted to this world before, a world where all the eye could see was rotting corpses full of worms and maggots, dusty wooden coffins, dirt and fire, judgment day coming over the horizon.

Being an aggressive man, used to arrogance and getting whatever he wanted when he wanted it, Terra had twice stopped to turn his car around and cut off that motherfucker Ienzo's head. But common sense thankfully revealed itself to him, and he continued driving home, realizing that going to Ienzo would mean going to Aqua; and going to Aqua would mean going to death.

Terra pulled into his driveway and made his way into his home, his old fortress. To a normal person, losing a house with as much history as this one would be a sorrowful event; Terra did not shed a tear, but got even more furious. His shaking hands pulled out the keys and he opened the door.

He ran instantly to his bedroom and packed all the clothes he could into a suitcase. He shoved in a couple personal hygiene-products, and shoved his iPod into his pocket. He hurried to the kitchen to see what he had food-wise, and dismally found it empty. He shut the refrigerator door and turned to see Leon, standing straight up, teeth clenched, a gun pointing at his former boss.

Terra opened his mouth, but no words came out. This betrayal was apart of the Deathworld, and he knew nothing of it. He was not used to having guns pointed at him, but in the past couple of hours he had gotten it a lot. First the fucking Senator, now Leon. They say fate runs the world, and if that may be, than that stupid kid Riku had a lot of "fate" pouring out the asshole; Terra's life had taken a humongous spin ever since that little shit had shown his face around town.

Expecting to go out into a flurry of curses, Terra found himself incapable of saying anything except one word, one word that surprised him as much as it did Leon.

"Okay."

Bam. Leon pulled the trigger, and Terra felt the impact of the bullet hit him in the stomach. His hands flew to his gut, and felt the moisture of his own blood seeping through his fingers. The pain was so immense that he pressed his back against the refrigerator and slid down to sit on the tiled floor.

He spoke his last words through an overwhelming flood of blood, "No, take me to the Kingdom, don't leave me…" Terra went limp.

Leon watched his victim die with grim pleasure until he said those final words. Now he felt chilled to the bone. Shuddering, he turned and walked to the living room-

-_don't leave me-_

-and saw a figure move, then heard another gunshot that did not come from he himself, and he was lifted off his feet and spiraling towards the floor, sticky blood running down his neck. He looked up and saw Ienzo kick the gun away from his hands with a pistol of his own, and immediately felt a rush of betrayal and fear.

"You sonofabitch!" Leon screamed. "I promised you I'd kill him! I promised!"

"Yeah," said Ienzo coolly, little smirk playing on his face. "Well, I'm not one for promises. You know how it is, Leon; you betrayed Aqua, too."

Ienzo raised the gun again. This time, the bullet made a home within Leon's temple. The best bagger gave another jerk and lay still.

Ienzo left hurriedly, thinking that if he could so _easily_ get the first two, then killing the other couple would be just as simplistic. The two who had left last night: the blonde girl and…what was that other guy's name?

Something about the sky…?

* * *

Cloud woke up to a beautiful sunrise, and looked over at Namine, who slept beside him. He smiled and stared at her for a while, recalling how last night they had made love in this motel room. Not had sex. That was Terra's thing, God knew. This act had been passionate, something out of a cheap-ass romance novel. And Cloud had never been happier.

They hadn't taken the train to Chicago, instead driving out to Seaside Heights, New Jersey in Namine's car. Cloud had a couple more small bags of marijuana, and Namine had quickly gotten her secret stash from her apartment in D.C. If Cloud could sell the pot today, they would have enough to perhaps buy one of those small homes near the canal/bay that lead out into the ocean. Right now, however, they were staying at the Surfside Motel. And it was the happiest day of Cloud's life.

He quietly got out of bed and walked outside to enjoy the rising sun. Before he did that, however, he looked at Namine's face as she slept.

She was smiling.

He kissed her on the cheek and headed through the door. There were a couple vending machines on this "floor" of hotel rooms, and he bought himself a cherry Mountain Dew. With the soft drink in hand, Cloud walked down the street and up to the boardwalk. The ocean was beautiful in the morning…or, at least, mornings during which you were in love. Cloud wouldn't have minded living here with Namine for the rest of his life and dying beside her. Used to a world of violence, betrayal, and sick loyalty, Terra's best bagger had found something no narcotic could ever match: pure human emotion.

He had never been so happy in his entire life.

* * *

"Riku, if you just go where I told you to go the _first_ fucking time, we wouldn't be doing this," said Sora impatiently as Riku drove the CTS around one of the many garages that filled Manhattan. Sora had spotted an open space near the entrance, but Riku had insisted that he saw one near the back and would prefer being further from the entrance in case some stupid thieves came in.

Through grit teeth, Riku replied, "Look, Sora, _who_ failed their permit test twice and still can't go out driving since turning sixteen? _You_. Don't you tell me what to do."

Grumbling, Sora muttered, "If you'd just _listen_…"

Riku punched him in the arm. Sora muttered again and massages his aching shoulder. Kairi laughed from the backseat.

They eventually found a parking space (in the middle, so both boys were satisfied) and walked out of the underground garage and into the city. Like every time he stepped out into this place, Sora was overcome by a feeling of vertigo; there was too much to see, too much to take in, as always. Lights shone brightly like portals to heaven, taxis and cars honked their horns with insatiable impatience, people walked in every direction possible, and the magical architecture of this wondrous city reached for the skies. Once everything had stopped spinning, Sora blinked heavily and followed his two friends down the street.

"What's first?" he asked, checking his wristwatch. 12:34 in the afternoon. Not bad timing. They had made it here in three and a half hours.

"First," said Riku as they walked. "We find someplace to stay overnight. According to you, Demyx's concert is in Queens tomorrow night, so we have quite some time to kill. Mick told me of a hotel we could stay at in Hell's Kitchen. Let's go."

The walk to the Kitchen didn't take so long. They checked in rather quickly, and went up to their room. As Sora jumped onto the bed and turned on the television, Riku sat at the table near the door and pulled out his wallet.

"…twenty thousand," he said after a couple of minutes, and whistled. "I owe her one." He turned. "Well, we have a _lot_ of cash on us. Which means, 'round these parts, we're gonna be a target for muggers."

"So, what do we do?" asked Kairi as she looked at herself in the mirror. Sora stared at her instinctively.

Riku said, "Mick told me he's sending Don and Goofy to stay with us for this mission, and possibly just join us from now on overall. Plus, I've gotten us some other protection, street-style. Nobody wants to pop us, unless they want to get popped themselves."

"Pop?" said Kairi, a sick grin on her face. Riku laughed.

They headed out of the hotel and went to eat lunch at Susie's Diner. Sora ordered himself a burger and fries, Riku a basket of chicken fingers, and Kairi a salad. They munched on their meals in silence, their minds racing with the possible outcomes of this attempted kidnapping of Demyx. Sora was so utterly frightened of this situation that the man he had killed in Club Heartless meant _nothing_ now. His heart sinking, he realized this was probably a bad thought to be thinking; what if the murdered man had a family somewhere? What if he had been drunk and wasn't thinking clearly when he had come up to Kairi? Exactly _who_ was the person that was supposed to die? You only live once…and Sora had taken everything from that man, everything. Was he becoming as nonchalant as Senator Mouse, seeing people as disposable whilst considering the greater good? Or was he becoming as ruthless as the notorious Marla Shift, who killed for pleasure? _Did_ Sora feel pleasure when he had killed the stranger?

_No!_ he thought defensively. _I felt horrible! I still do! _

All of a sudden, he was not hungry. In fact, he felt sick. He put his face in his hands and realized he was trembling…wait, no. It wasn't _he_ that was trembling, but something was vibrating.

Sora took out the Keyblade and saw that it was shaking incredibly, at great velocities, jerking his arm one way and another.

"Oh, no," groaned Kairi. "Don't tell me something's happening _here_…"

"No," said Sora, mind a hurricane of panic. "This isn't like what happened at the Library of Congress…this is something else…"

White hot pain flared up his arm, breaking through his shoulder and shooting up into his head. Sora was out cold in less than two seconds.

The visions began.

* * *

_shift…_

Mark Wallsburg, age thirty-four, was sitting in his pitifully-small house, watching his television set and drinking a warm bottle of beer. Mark absolutely hated his beer cold, so he made sure to let it sit in the sun all day to enjoy it once the night came. He had worked hard down at Foster's homestead near the town of Corona today, and this beer was well-deserved…at least to him.

The ramshackle front door opened with an obnoxious creak, and in came Mark's son, sixteen-year-old Jesse Wallsburg, with a book bag strapped over his shoulder. Mark did not turn to his son, but continued watching the television.

"I'm home," said Jesse.

"What took ya'?" asked Mark before taking another sip of beer.

Frowning, Jesse replied, "Went over to Max's house."

Max was Jesse's boyfriend. Ever since the little queer had come out of the closet to the whole goddam town a couple weeks ago, Mark was forced to take the teasing and taunting of his coworkers down at the farm; as if it wasn't bad enough that his wife had left him, now he had _this_ little bum-puncher floating around town with his queer-buddy, the two of 'em kissing and God knows what else what in front of the townsfolk.

At the mention of the name "Max", Mark just gave a grunt of assent.

"You di'nt fuck 'im up the ass, didja?" he asked his son. Jesse's mouth fell open in a gape. Mark continued, "'Cause if ya' did, and ya' gettin' sick from all this shit, I ain't takin' ya' to no doctor. Doc Halps don't take kindly to queers."

"Well, fuck him, then," growled Jesse as he sat at the kitchen table and pulled out a couple of heavy-looking books. "It's 1947, pa. Time's have changed, so you best be changing with 'em. Also, no, I haven't had sex with Max. Jesus…"

"Don't be usin' that name in vain," Mark warned. Another sip of beer.

"Whatever," muttered Jesse. To make conversation while he did his homework, he asked (as politely as he possibly could), "How'd things go down at Foster's today?"

"Purty good. Ol' Mac Brazel found some weird rocks today in the fields."

"Ya' don't say?" asked Jesse, bending over his homework. "Jeremy Skips found some rocks by the creek th'other day, too. Really weird ones. Did you see 'em?"

"Yuh. They were black, lined with silver. Di'nt touch 'em myself, but all the same…They was pretty weird."

Jesse frowned, "That's what Jeremy found the other day. Black rocks, like coal? But with a tad bit a'silver…yeah, it was really weird."

"Mhm."

The two didn't exchange another word for around maybe an hour. By then, Jesse was almost done with his homework, and Mark was drunker than a sack of assholes. He was about to doze off, when a humongous crash came from the kitchen. Mark stood up and roared, "The hell ya' doin', boy?"

The table was on the floor, homework and writing utensils scattered about. Jesse sat on the chair, notebook on his lap and pencil writing vigorously upon it. He was twitching horribly, and Mark saw with horror that a flood of foam was coming out of his son's mouth. From Jesse's throat came gargling noises, and his eyes were going bloodshot.

"Oh, _shit_," whispered Mark, frozen in place, unable to think of a solution to save his son from whatever the hell this was…thankfully, he didn't need to, for it was over in a second, and Jesse spoke:

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit, they're coming, they're _coming_, and we can't stop them because they have so much so much so much…"

"What're you saying, boy?" asked Mark fearfully.

"…soon, soon, soon," wailed Jesse Wallsburg maniacally. "Soon they will be here, and they'll give them to us, and they'll think they're doing us a favor but they won't be oh god no no _no_…"

"_Jesse_!" screamed the father.

"…because then _he_ will come, oh god yes, and he will use the hurt and ambitious and they will follow him and soon, soon, soon their minds will be corrupted with false hopes and dreams of power and success, and only ONE can stop them but he will give up everything and watch as those he loves most die at the hands of the OTHERS and the OTHERS will soon die themselves and we will be further from the truth than we ever were before because fighting does nothing, nothing, so soon, so sooooooooooooooooo-"

All of the cabinets in the kitchen spontaneously flew open with a simultaneous _bang_. Mark screamed and ran for the living room.

Behind him, Jesse gave one last shriek.

"Please, don't let them win!"

He collapsed.

Mark entered the room cautiously, looking at his unconscious son. Shaken terribly, he rushed over to the fallen Jesse and attempted to pick him up. From the boy's white hands dropped the notebook. Mouth open as wide as ever, Mark picked up the notebook and saw what was scribbled on there. Over a hundred times, in almost perfect handwriting that did not fit his son's, were four letters: "R", "O", "S", and "A". Along the perimeter of the paper was the letter "X", framing the four others.

Appalled, Mark Wallsburg dropped the notebook and hurried his son to the hospital.

_shift…_

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Hon, c'mon…"

"No, Max, I mean it," said Jesse firmly as he laid in the bed he shared with his boyfriend. He was pretending to read a paperback. "I don't want to go back to that time, not when we were sixteen…and the whole UFO-thing…it was just fucked up, okay? I don't want to ever, _ever_ bring up what happened in Roswell of 1947 again."

Max sighed and said, "Fine…Just cheer up, okay? I was just _curious_, and that was ten years ago! That little boy at the orphanage…he wanted to know so _much_ about it, and he was just so precious…Nothing, nothing at all comes to mind about that one night?"

"Stop it, now, Max."

"Okay, okay!" Max paused and stared at Jesse for a little bit before saying, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Do you think I should adopt him?"

"Who? Anthony Hall? No, babe; it's a bad idea. Let's just enjoy our own company, okay? We don't need some fuckin' four-year-old kid running around. You're all I need."

Max kissed him on the cheek, and rolled over to sleep. Jesse continued to stare at the pages of his book, but his mind would not take in the words being displayed. He was in another, faraway place, a place called Roswell, New Mexico, where he had first met his lover and had experienced the traumatic "seizure" (as doctors had called it) in his kitchen the night of the "UFO"-crash. God, how that night still haunted his nightmares.

It was a long time before he could go to sleep.

_shift…._

Anthony Hall hated to see his father like this; crying and weeping and mourning and whatever other words came to mind. As creative of a writer that Hall was, he could never in a million years describe the utter pain and agony he saw within his father's face as they stared at the tombstone of Jesse Wallsburg, his _other_ father. Hall had never minded being raised by two fathers, but others constantly nagged him throughout his childhood and adult life. He didn't see why; it wasn't like _he_ was gay. He now had a wife and two wonderful sons. However, whenever he told of Jesse Wallsburg and Maxwell Dexter, eyebrows would raise.

On the tombstone of Jesse were the words: "IN LOVING MEMORY OF JESSE WALLSBURG: A HUSBAND, A FATHER". Underneath were the dates: "1931-1978".

"Not a day goes by," croaked Max. "That I don't miss him."

"I know," said Anthony, putting an arm around his father. "Same here, dad. He was very young…at only age forty-seven. And he was a good guy. But I can't stand to see you like this. You've gotta go out and see other people…"

Max laughed and said, "You're a good boy, Anthony. You always were. Don't worry about your old man, I'll pull through. How're the kids?"

"The twins are fine. Lucien's joined the little league baseball team, and I swear to God that Chris can play the piano better than I can, now."

Although Max's face had such an eternal look of doom carved into it, for a moment it seemed to glow with happiness.

"I am very happy for you, Anthony," said Max, putting an arm around his adopted son as they made their way out of the cemetery. "You deserve a good family."

_shift…_

"What do you mean you're PREGNANT?" roared Lucien Hall, age thirty-five, as he threw his wife across their apartment's living room and into his favorite chair.

She sobbed and said, "I'm sorry, Lucien, I'm so _sorry_, I forgot the pill…"

"You dumb fucking bitch," snarled Hall. "You stupid fucking cunt. I cannot believe this…."

_shift…_

The boy with blond hair sat on the small bed in his room, crying his eyes red as his parents fought with one another in the other room. At only three years-old, he clutched his stuffed Barney-toy closely to his chest.

"_Ryan_!" screamed Lucien Hall. "Get in here!"

The little boy hopped off his bed, Barney still in hand, and went into the living room. His mother was on the floor, tears running down her cheeks in small salty streams. Ryan Hall looked up at his father.

"Ryan," said Lucien Hall menacingly. "Have there been any strangers seeing your mommy lately?"

"N-no, daddy."

"Are you lying to me? Little liars go to Hell, Ryan. They go to Hell and burn."

"I'm not luh-lying, d-daddy."

Lucien frowned and said, "Okay. Go to bed, kiddo. Don't leave your room, or you're gonna get a whuppin'. You hear me?"

"Yes, daddy…"

_shift…_

Little Ryan Hall was playing with Play-Doh at age five when some bigger kid came and took it from him, not before punching him in the arm a couple times…

_shift…_

Ryan Hall sat in his Geometry class in high school, trying to ignore the group of football players throwing things at him. He was close to tears…

_shift…_

"What the _fuck_ is the meaning of this? Let me go!"

Ryan Hall was in a basement, talking to a group of men in black robes…

_shift…_

"Scream and I'll kill you…"

Ryan was being held by someone in an unknown hallway, a place that looked like a hotel's hallway but seemed much more sinister…the man who had Ryan was giggling madly, brushing away his bright pink hair, and a horribly-scarred man was making his way towards them, looking furious…

* * *

Sora woke up, screaming.

Riku and Kairi were kneeling down beside him as he breathed heavily. He was covered in cold sweat, feeling like he had just woken up from a nightmare. He shuddered, and was dimly aware that many people in the store were watching him. Seeing the frantic look on Riku's face at the sight of all these strangers, Sora stood up instantly.

"I'm fine," he assured the people of the restaurant. "Just not getting enough sleep, I guess. Thank you."

They returned to their tables, and he sat back down with his friends.  
"How long was I out?"

"Three minutes," whispered Kairi. Her eyes were wide with concern. "What happened?"

Sora relayed to them what the Keyblade had shown him, from the homosexual lovers to the last male of the Hall family.

"And," said Sora. "This guy, Ryan Hall, is with the guy who took my parents. Guys, he's with Marla Shift. There are others, too…and Demyx _is_ one of them, I think. I don't know who they are or what they're doing to my parents, but they met Hall in a basement and they live in some place that looks like a hotel."

"Jesus," said Riku. "We need to tell Don and Goofy when they get here. If the Keyblade is giving you visions…then Mick will need to know. Let's get the Christly fuck out of here in the meantime."

The trio walked out of Susie's Diner and down the sidewalk. The streets were full of honking and beeping traffic, the usual New York-arguments going on about who drives shittier.

* * *

Roxas and Axel exited the subway station and made their way to a shadier alleyway, the one they were instructed to go into. Once there, they shouldered off their backpacks and got out their masks without exchanging a word. Chaos was no laughing matter…at least not its early stages.

The masks were cotton ski masks, a style frequently donned by burglars. However, burglars usually wore black or dark blue masks; Axel's was all-red, while Roxas' was white and black. It reminded him of the comic book assassin Deadpool's mask, which made him ecstatic; may the world watch out for the killer nerd.

He took _Oblivion_ and _Oathkeeper_ out of the pack, and a vast amount of electrical equipment out with it.

Axel whistled. "Woah. Vexen really hooked you up, didn't he?"

Roxas nodded. Yes, Vexen _had_ hooked him up. The weapon manufacturer had at first seemed to be in the same mold as Zexion, but he was much more friendlier than the mind-studier. Happy to help the newest member of the Organization, Vexen had given a small battery pack for Roxas to wear on his back, giving the Keyblades more hot energy to use, plus a bonus weapon: on the blade of the two Keyblades, Vexen had attached hidden cable-shooters. The shooters would activate at the push of a button on the hilt of either Keyblade, and shoot out a small clip-on that was attached to a thin black wire. When locked on to something, the clips would deliver a 10,000-volt shock. Christmas had come early for Roxas. He had thanked Vexen very much this morning.

Axel put on his flamethrowers, and picked up his backpack.

"Alright," he said. "See you 'round, kid. Remember what the Big Guy said: just _one street_ for today. Okay? I'm a phone call away if you need me. But I don't think you will. Good luck, soldier."

Axel ran off. Roxas watched him go, surprised at how fast his friend could sprint when under the Organization's pressure. Feeling a bit left-behind, Roxas hurriedly strapped the battery pack onto his lower back. He holstered the two Keyblades into the two sheaths Vexen had added onto it, and put on a large hoodie, pulling the hood up over his masked face; the Keyblades were concealed for now. He just looked a little bigger than he actually was; Vexen had done wonders for him. Anxious, Roxas walked out of the alley and onto the street from which he had come.

Roxas walked down the sidewalk, looking for potential targets to start off with. Many people looked at him funny, but nobody said a word; there were so many freaks in Manhattan, that it was almost impossible _not_ to walk the streets and see some asshole in a white-and-black ski mask.

He looked across the street and what he saw made his heart skip a beat.

Across the street, with two others beside him, was the Keyblade-wielder Axel had met…the boy called Sora. With him was some other boy, a bit older, and a pretty redheaded broad.

Roxas stalked them from across the street, contemplating an attack. If he were to rid the world of this troublesome kid…how would Xehanort react? Pretty well, Roxas figured. Furthermore, Roxas wanted to prove to _himself_ that these weapons were perfect for him. He wanted to test himself. A good servant of chaos, of anarchy, _needed_ to test himself, wasn't that right? And he would still be doing his job…wouldn't he?

He crossed the street, sneaking past the metal maze of cars and other vehicles as slick and silent as a hunting jungle cat.

Sora was completely unaware of his enemy's presence until he felt a hand grab him by the collar.

_Wha-FUCK?_ he thought, and then he was being thrown on the hood of a yellow taxi, painfully smacking against the metal. Groaning, he rolled over on the other side, but forced himself to recover to look at his assailant.

The man was wearing a black-and-white mask that was partly covered by his hood. The assailant's mouth was clear as day, however, and it was smirking mockingly.

"Who are you?" demanded Sora from the street. Many horns were blazing, but he ignored them. Riku and Kairi turned, staring at the attacker with surprise and confusion.

The assailant responded with a gloating laugh and walked forward slowly, with much confidence. Sora watched in utter astonishment as the man's hoodie burned away from some form of hot energy. Strapped to this person's lower torso was a strange type of belt, with a battery resting in it on his back. From the battery pack were wires connected to something else on the assailant's back, something that the man unsheathed, something that made Sora's blood run cold.

Attached to the wires leading to the battery pack were two, _two_, Keyblades, one white and one black, but both vaguely growing red from the hot energy the battery pack was giving them. With weapons so magnificent and an appearance so grim, this attacker looked like an Angel of Death, fallen from Heaven to destroy all in his path.

"Oh my God," said Riku as he stared at the attacker approaching his friend.

Sora turned to him and called, "Riku! Get Kairi out of here! Head back to the place we're staying! I'll hold him off!"

Riku broke out of his trance and nodded, understanding that this was Sora's fight and Sora's fight alone. He ushered a worried-looking Kairi out of the battlefield.

The attacker paid them no notice. He kept that confident, sardonic smile playing on his lips as he approached slowly, swinging the wired-Blades around. The tips cuts into the pavement. Many onlookers gasped at this.

Sora unsheathed his own Keyblade, and felt it grow hot…though it was not nearly as scorching as his attacker's. He wielded it with both hands on the hilt and rushed forward.

The two Keyblade warriors clanged their weapons together for the first time, otherworldly metal-on-metal. The force shook them both, and they paused for a moment after that first strike. Then, they ran for each other again, and began dueling more quickly, now both intent on killing the other.

The attacker was a sufficient fighter. He could nimbly dodge and jump over various strikes Sora sent his way, and with two blades he could attack much more quickly than Sora could. This man had been training; Sora had not. However, the thought of this man trying to take his life, and therefore taking him away from Kairi, pumped adrenaline into Sora's veins. He gave many hard strikes, taking his foe aback a couple of times, but the attacker would always respond with violent swings himself.

People were exiting their cars and running away from the battlers, yet civilians crowded around the street, watching in awe as the two fighters went at each other venomously.

Roxas himself was surprised by Sora's capabilities. Many times he had felt as though Sora could get the best of him, but he always kept steady, and retaliated as hard as he could to remind himself that _he_ was in control.

Sora swung again, horizontally and powerfully. Roxas almost lost his grip on his weapons, felt his hands loosen at the hit. Suddenly frightened, he raised _Oathkeeper_ and aimed it at his opponent. Roxas clicked the button.

The clips shot out, leaving a trail of black wire behind them. There were at least four, and they hit Sora right in the torso. Sora went flying back, smashing against the side of a taxi and crumbling to the pavement. Roxas quickly pressed another button on the hilt of _Oathkeeper_. The sounds of the electric volts came, and Roxas smiled with satisfaction.

Sora jerked and twitched with the voltage of the clips. Roxas moved forward, sure this was his enemy's end, but Sora raised a hand up to the black wires and yanked the clip-ons out of him. A stream of saliva and blood ran down Sora's cheek, a humongous gash had opened on his forehead, yet he stood and raised his Keyblade again, not faltering even a little bit.

He struck powerfully once, twice, and then smashed the hilt of the Keyblade into his attacker's face. Roxas felt his nose break instantly, and he raised his arm to the flow of blood that was spewing from his nostrils. He backed out of the road and onto the sidewalk, mind a haze, face in white hot pain. Sora walked towards him slowly, raising his Keyblade threateningly.

"This," said Roxas through grit teeth. "Is _not_ over."

"No," said Sora, glowering. "Not by a longshot."

They stared each other down for what felt like forever.

"Get out of here," ordered Sora coldly.

The attacker sprinted down an alleyway and out of sight.

Putting away his own Keyblade, Sora ran away from the oncoming crowd of admirers, and down another alley. When he was sure he was clear of the crowd, he bent over and vomited on the pavement. It came out in burning strings, and suddenly he wanted to be with his mother very badly. It pained him to remember that his parents were gone, but his spirits were lifted when he realized that Riku and Kairi were waiting at the hotel for either him to return or to hear the report of his death.

Wanting them to experience the former, Sora left the alleyway, more frightened than he had ever been in his entire life.

* * *

Zexion sat on the plane to Hawaii, listening to his iPod (riddled with classical music by various composers throughout history), and thinking about Kairi O'Cooper. Whenever he rested his eyes on Xion, the youngest member's little girlfriend who had accompanied him on this expedition to the tropics, Kairi was all he could think about.

A man of logic, Zexion rarely showed emotion. He had always figured emotions is what lead people to their deaths…or, at least in his case, to misery. And he had been right. He felt love, but love hurt him horribly.

As both Zeke and Zexion, this researcher of the mind had been unable to figure out what was wrong with him time and time again. He considered so many possibilities that nothing seemed to make sense anymore within the context of the situation. Love was extreme attraction, a chemical reaction in the brain, nothing more. Just like other chemical reactions in the brain, the "love"-reaction _could_ be undone. So why wasn't it? Why, why, _why_ was he in love with Kairi O'Cooper?

If Zexion could remember correctly, he and Kairi had next to nothing in common. He was a much deeper, a more _complex_ person than she was…wasn't he? Of course he was…he was a much more successful being than _all_ of those who attended his high school…wasn't he?

_Dammit!_ he cursed to himself. _You're a damn fool! Narcissism is not a healthy way to think! _

_But that's not true. I _am_ highly intelligent, am I not? Otherwise I wouldn't be in the Organization. I'm one of the best. One of the best of the best around. _

_ But not good enough to get Kairi._

In high school, Zexion had conjured up many fantasies involving he and his crush, planning out romantic things to do with her, places they would go, things they would accomplish…meanwhile, she was always unaware he liked her so much. And he had mustered up the courage to tell her, once, but he did not reveal _everything_. Much of it had been kept away from her knowledge, kept away from _everyone's_ knowledge. And she had thought he had gotten over her, while here he was, nineteen-years-old and still madly in love with a girl he barely knew.

_Perhaps_, he thought. _I should try and find her once I get back._

A stewardess walked passed him and turned around, thinking he was rather good-looking. The guy's face was blank, expressionless and impassive, and boring. She hated boring. The stewardess turned, wondering how someone could be so dull and lifeless, unaware that a constant firework display of emotions was going on inside Zexion's head.

* * *

**The best fucking thing. Thank you, DeadShut. And you, Lonestar, you are very supportive of us. We appreciate it.**

**Holy cow! I got Photoshop! YAAAYY! It's fucking epic.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)  
**


	15. Big Brother

**Happy Halloween buddies! Here's your treat, but no trick. Sorry. I hope your ready, because you are in for one hell of a ride.**

**Enjoy, mo-fos.**

* * *

Aqua had been awaiting a phone call for a few hours. She had successfully sold Male Inc. and had subsequently been laid off. She appeared saddened and distraught, especially since her friend had kept her job. She remembered the look on her face.

"Oh, Angelina!" her cubicle mate cried. "They fired you!"

"What?" Aqua exclaimed, keeping true to her façade. "What do you mean fired?"

"The owner sold the company. They're reforming everything. I'm so sorry!"

Aqua frowned. "It's okay. I'll manage."

"Hey. I could pull a few strings if you like."

Aqua shook her head. "No, it was time for me to move on. I guess this is Fate's way of telling me I need to look at my life."

She hugged her old friend. "I'll miss you."

Aqua smiled. "Me too."

And as the door to her former job closed, Aqua was a hundred million dollars richer. She looked at her cell phone, and there were no messages. She was becoming worried. Aqua sat in a sidewalk café, sipping tea when her phone vibrated.

Aqua flipped her phone open. "Hello?"

"Is this someone I can talk to?"

"Yes."

"Your terrible crime has been taken care of. The lion's been put down. I'm looking for the clouds."

Aqua laughed. "That was quick. I was under the assumption that he was coming here."

"He changed his mind in Atlantic City."

"And?"

"He was going to run. But, he came back." There was a smooth, chilling laugh. "I tricked the lion into biting his hand."

Aqua breathed shallowly. "I heard Seaside Heights is in right now."

"Hmmm."

"I want it to be a sunny day soon."

"And the girl?"

Aqua hummed. "I haven't decided yet."

Aqua hung up the phone. She had noted someone looking at her from across the street. She wasn't quite sure if they were to be trusted, because they had been staring for a long time. She smiled and sipped her tea again, when an old man took the seat across from her.

"Hello, Diz," Aqua said lazily.

Diz smiled. "Hello…Angelina."

Aqua gasped, but hid it behind another sip of tea. "I don't know who you're talking about. You must have me confused with somebody else."

"Terra thinks otherwise."

"Terra is not here."

Diz laughed hoarsely. "That's a shame. He ratted you out to us. Unfortunately, he didn't live long enough for you to find out."

Aqua gripped her cup. "Diz…"

"We know you can help us."

Aqua smiled deeply. "You think threatening me is going to work?"

Diz nodded.

Aqua placed her cup on the table and shuddered with restraint. "Diz. You tell whoever it is you work for that they should never for one second believe that they have power over me. They will regret it."

"Cheeky." Diz whispered. "Terra told us everything. All your top contacts. Distributors, sellers, packers. All your fronts. And all your friends."

Aqua was silent.

"We hold all the cards."

Aqua smiled. "Okay then. Think what you want. But, do you really think I would tell Terra any of that? You'd believe him over hard evidence?"

Diz rubbed the back of his head. "You're a hard one to track. In fact, if Terra had kept his mouth shut, we never would have known your whole name, or where you worked. We are masters of the Internet, kind lady. We know everything about you."

Aqua sighed. "That's a shame. Now there's going to be a war."

Diz stood. "We are not worried about that. We just want Riku."

Aqua turned away. "I'm sorry to deny you your…resources. But, I've got my own Big Brothers. The Heartless are now a problem."

Diz waved her off. "We're ready for you."

Aqua smirked. "Don't be so sure."

As soon as Diz left, and she was sure that she was alone, Aqua dialed a number that she never thought she was going to use again. The phone rang, and she felt the slight flutter of nervous butterflies in her stomach.

"Hello?"

Aqua relaxed. "I need my Big Brother."

"Hold on."

The shifting of clothing and muffled voices whispered from the earpiece. "Hello?"

Aqua smirked. "I never thought I'd ask you for anything again."

"Sleeping Beauty?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit!"

"I need my Big Brother to help me out with a Heartless Lover."

"Cool!"

"I need him here soon." Aqua said, smiling. "Like, today."

"Big Brother is on his way."

Aqua nodded. "I'll be at the usual place."

"Great!"

* * *

Riku had been sitting on the phone with Mick for at least a half an hour, before he hung up furiously. "This is some fucked up shit."

Sora looked up at him. Kairi was tending to the gash in his face, hoping that it wouldn't scar too badly. To her surprise, the skin had already begun to stitch itself together. "What's wrong?"

"Mick says we need to lay low for now." Riku said. "He caught wind that a war is coming."

Sora jumped. "What? From where?"

"Aqua."

Kairi turned. "Who's Aqua?"

Riku shuddered. "Uhh…my new employer."

Kairi flushed. "You said you were done with that! Riku! Did you lie about that?"

Riku looked away. "I…was going to tell you."

Kairi pushed him. "When? When you got your head blown off?"

Riku shrugged. "It was never a good time. I was just trying to keep my promise to you."

Kairi pushed him again. "And I said I would never ask for repayment. I told you I would never take anything from you if you got it that way. You told me you were done! You fucking liar!"

Riku tried to stop Kairi from attacking him without hitting her. He could feel a strange anger creeping up his arms. They wanted to take Kairi and silence her, but he regained control of his body and pinned her hands down.

"Kairi, listen to me," Riku said a little louder than a whisper. "I'm not stuck to her. I promise. Aqua is just a temporary thing. I just…need to do this. I promise everything's going to be okay."

He hugged her with all the compassion he could spare, knowing that his mind was so heavily burdened with responsibility. He knew Kairi would believe him. He knew she would cry for the next couple of hours, and that was going to be the time for him to go out and investigate. Sora would watch her.

"I have to…cool off," Riku whispered.

Kairi nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. "You're not…?"

"I won't go do…that." Riku said. "I promise." He was lying.

Kairi sniffed and nodded. "Okay." She pulled away from him and let him leave the room. She whole-heartedly believed that Riku was going to leave and cool off and come back. And that nothing was going to happen, and that she was going to be okay, and that they would be safe.

Riku opened the door. "Don't open this for anyone. If someone knocks, don't answer, don't come to the door. Don't do anything. Okay?"

Sora nodded and threw a thumbs-up. "Got it."

Riku eyed Sora and closed the door. He hopped down the rickety stairs and out the front door. The streets were dimly lit as twilight approached. Riku started down the street when a black van suddenly pulled up beside him.

"The fuck?"

Two men hopped out the van and subdued Riku easily, throwing him into the side and speeding off without so much as a cat to witness. Riku tumbled in the back of the van, kicked and punching in every direction he could.

"Hold up. Hold up!"

Riku didn't stop. "Let me the fuck go!"

"Jesus!" cried one of the men. "Calm the fuck down! We're on your side."

Riku calmed down, but kept his guard up to the sky. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Fuck man," said the driver. "I'm your Big Brother."

Riku stopped. "I don't have a brother."

"No, hon." Aqua leaned over the passenger side. "He's Big Brother. My security system."

"Aqua?"

"Hi, babe."

"What's going on?"

"Initiation." Aqua said. "By the way, Isa, Riku. Riku, Isa."

Riku croaked. "Hey."

"I heard good things about you, Riku." Isa said. Even in the dim light, Riku could see his hair was dyed a crazy shade of blue. "The City of Brotherly Love. At your service."

"Philly?"

Aqua nodded solemnly. "Unfortunately I had to bring in…old enemies."

Isa laughed. "You see. Aqua and I had a thing way back when. I totally kicked her ass in a selling game, and she killed half my city."

Riku gulped. "Then what the fuck are you doing here?"

Aqua and Isa laughed. "That was a long time ago. We are allies now."

Riku eyed Isa. "But not friends."

Isa stopped the van. "Listen. You don't understand a single thing that goes on here. Our bonds go way back. More than we care to admit. Let's just say we did the blah blah blah and now we have blah."

Riku nodded. "So…"

"You're going to be branded," Aqua said. "Then you and I need to talk."

Riku swallowed again. "Okay."

Isa pulled out a small rod. "Hold still. This is going to hurt like hell."

Riku instantly threw his guard up, but he wasn't fast enough as Isa pressed a suddenly white hot metal rod into the back of his ear. Riku screamed, and Aqua stuffed a piece of cloth in his mouth. His sharp cries became muffled grunts.

"Shhh, babe," Aqua crooned. She lifted up his chin, wiping away the tears that had burst from his eyes. She kissed him softly, and, suddenly, it didn't hurt as much.

Isa laughed. "Aqua! I never thought you would have such control."

"Shut up or you'll be buried in bodies."

Isa laughed harder. "Oh, okay. I'll be good. I'm just here to help you with your…problem. Then I'm going back. No harm done. And I'm not staying longer than I need to. I promise. No unnecessary death."

Riku stood up, as soon as the sharp pain subsided to a dull, but powerful throb. He could feel his whole head shaking. "What happened?"

Isa clicked his teeth. "I stabbed you with a metal poker that can reach temperatures of hundreds of degrees. I branded you, so you are now a slave to Aqua. Though I'm sure you were already half way there."

Riku heaved a breath that brought about a wave of nausea. "I don't feel so good."

Aqua hugged him. "It's okay. It'll heal. The letter will be red. That's very important."

Isa shivered suddenly. "Can we get inside? I'm cold as fuck."

Aqua nodded and they entered a building. Inside, it was just a plain desk with a young blond man sitting at it. He was pushing numbers into a calculator, and a long roll of tape curled around his feet.

"Hayner." Isa said. "The numbers?"

Hayner sighed. "Twenty."

"That's it?" Isa said. "Eh, that's okay."

Isa leaned over the desk and patted Hayner's head. Hayner beamed with appreciation, and Isa rewarded him with long passionate kiss. Riku leaned back.

Aqua nudged him. "He's okay. He doesn't roll that way. He uses sex for power. That's his leverage."

"And you don't do the same exact thing?" Isa asked, crossing his arms. "I'm a free spirit. If I want to fuck it, I will."

Riku shook his head. He looked at Aqua. "You wanted to talk?"

Aqua pushed him into a chair. "Yes, and I don't want you to lie to me. I know you're good at it."

Riku looked at her. "What?"

"Are you working for the Heartless?"

"No."

Aqua shrugged. "Terra did something fucked up, and now I have a bounty on my head."

"That's why I'm here." Isa said. "I've got to clean New York of Heartless. I heard you are looking for the leader."

"I am."

Isa grinned and stuck out his hand. "Then we're partners now."

Riku shook his head violently, looking from Isa to Aqua. "No! I don't do partners. I work alone."

Aqua sighed. "Riku, if you're going after the Heartless leader, you are not doing it without backup. I take care of my employees. Isa's staying with you."

"But…"

Isa leaned over Riku, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "You could always…come with me." He kissed the pulsing brand mark behind his ear. "I'll take better care of you."

Aqua pushed Isa away. "Stop poaching my employees!"

Isa glared at her. Riku could feel the tension rising and backed away. Isa and Aqua were dangerously close to each other. Riku couldn't figure out who was going to strike first.

Isa breathed his warm breath on Aqua's face. "Or you'll do what?"

Aqua gripped him by his collar. "You wanna find out?"

Isa pulled her hands down. "I would love to have a dick swinging contest with you, but _you _needed _me._ Remember?"

Aqua kept her fierce stance and tough demeanor. But, she knew he was right, and hated herself for being so careless. She should have killed Terra personally. But she brushed her differences to the side and swallowed her pride. She smiled.

"I'm sorry, Isa. You're right. I _need _you."

Isa grinned and blushed, anger and hostility vaporizing instantly. "You've still got it. I love it when you hold back. It makes you sexy."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Oh. Someone's having a bad week," Isa chided.

Riku so badly wanted to punch that fucker in the face. Even though he never had pledged himself to Aqua like that, or even considered trying anything serious, he wanted to protect her from all the evil in the world. He stepped towards Isa, but Aqua stopped him.

"Don't." She warned. "I deserved it."

Riku ignored her and pushed Isa back. "Fuck you, man."

Isa caught himself and brushed his hair back. "I'm going to let that go."

Riku went at him again. Isa was ready for him. As Riku balled his fist to hit him, Isa sidestepped him and moved around him in a way that could only be described as ghostly. He completely overcame him and pinned him to the ground in a grip that was beginning to crush his lungs.

"Beg for mercy, Riku." Isa whispered. "Ask Big Brother to let you go."

Riku choked, but remained adamant about not giving in. Isa squeezed tighter, "Beg."

Riku fainted. He couldn't take the lack of oxygen. He could only remember the look of horror on Aqua's face as he closed his eyes. Fear engulfed him. Then the vision began.

_Shift…_

"Christopher!" cried a man with a heavy Russian accent. "Take a look at this!"

A young man, maybe in his thirties, rushed over with a look of pure joy on his face. He was so charming, with brown skin that glowed with excitement. "Please tell me you figured it out, Victor."

"I'm not sure." Victor sighed. "I think I opened it."

Christopher looked over the table at a thin metal rod. Most of the tiny panels had been removed and millions of cogs were turning underneath. Millions, all glowing different colors and humming at different frequencies.

"I think I've cracked it," Victor said. "It's like the super computer. Only it's at least a thousand times faster. Maybe even faster than that."

"Does it work with any of our equipment?"

Victor shook his head. "I can't get it to communicate with our computer, but it seems to be sending signals to other organic matter. Watch."

Victor pushed the button on the side of metal rod. The clicks and whirs grew louder and a rat in a cage nearby squealed in agony. It thrashed about then died. Victor grinned.

"It can kill without changing the outward appearance."

"Like an invisible bullet," Christopher whispered.

"More like a knife, or some other kind of blade." Victor said just as softly.

Christopher went back to the table and picked up a small cube that was next to the metal rod. It glowed with an eerie hum, drawing attention to it.

"What about this?" Christopher asked. "It's like a…door. That doesn't work without the…"

"Key," Victor finished. "What did they call it?"

"The Keyblade."

"It's a weapon."

Christopher shook his head. "It's a tool. It's supposed to get us somewhere."

Victor growled. "It's a weapon."

Christopher placed the panels on the Keyblade back in place. "It seems that we are at a disagreement, _Dr._ Vanitas. Perhaps we should take a break."

Victor tensed. "Yes. Let's rest for now. We shall go back tomorrow."

Christopher locked the Keyblade in a vault that was lined with lead. It was 1948, and there was a constant fear of radioactivity. He rubbed his temples and climbed out of his underground laboratory. Victor Vanitas climbed out soon afterwards, still grumbling under his breath.

Christopher Xehanort and Victor Vanitas, the top scientists of the 1940's, both with impeccable credentials, and enlisted by the United States Government to crack the secrets of the Keyblade and bring the world into an age of Enlightenment.

"I want to go talk to the…beings." Christopher said. "They might be able to give us a clue as to what these tools are for."

Victor nodded, and they made their way through a compound that was guarded with the highest fences and biggest guns of the day. They nodded to the two scientists as they entered a completely sterile building. They dressed up in suits and helmets and entered a white room, where one of the last of the otherworldly beings was lying on a table.

It was struggling to breathe, and its eyes bulged. Christopher leaned over the table, smiling his most charming smile, willing the being before him to answer his question directly. No riddles or unintelligible languages.

"Please help me," Christopher whispered. "I need you to tell me what the Keyblade is for."

The being wheezed and looked at him with unbounded intelligence. "It's your transport."

"To where?" Christopher asked urgently. "Where does it take us?"

"To the one place where you belong."

Christopher tried not to growl. "But where is that?"

"You have to find out." The being wheezed again. "The Keyblade will give you everything you need. Push the button. It will take you to the Kingdom."

Christopher gasped as all the wires in the room overheated and caught fire. The body on the table burned from the inside out, and Victor pulled his colleague away from the pyre. They stumbled out of the room and the rest of the building was quickly engulfed by flames.

Christopher and Victor ran, escaping the burning building just in time. They ripped off their suits and landed in the sand. The dust kicked up clouded their vision, blinding them to the next ting that happened. They couldn't see it, but a portal opened in the fire, and the being's body had been transported away.

To Kingdom Hearts.

_Shift…_

Victor Vanitas and Christopher Xehanort sat before a panel of Senators. Their hands were neatly folded in front of them, and they looked cold and calculated. Victor huffed softly.

"They will never understand," he whispered. His Russian accent was less heavy. Time had passed. "They are too simple. They won't get it."

Christopher nodded. "I know, but we must secure our funds, or we will never be able to move forward. We are so close."

"Okay, let's get started." One of the Senators said. "We are reviewing your request for…forty-four billion dollars?"

Xehanort nodded. "Senator, we understand that the number is rather high—"

"It's absolutely ludicrous," The Senator retorted. "That number is absolutely made up. There is no way you could possibly use that much money. Explain yourself."

Victor stood up, "With all due respect Senator, you have no idea what kind of leaps we've made in the scientific community since our enlistment. You just can not fathom what we have discovered."

"Then explain it to us…?"

"_Dr._ Victor Vanitas."

"Dr. Vanitas."

Victor looked at Christopher, then back at the Senator. "Why don't I show you?"

He stood up and pulled out the Keyblade, but there were a few modifications to it. It was leaner. Longer. And the sleek silver was replaced with dark metals. The Senators looked taken aback and a tense whisper circled the room.

"What is that?"

Victor smirked. "I made another one. Similar in design. Not as powerful, but much more sophisticated than any weapon today. I call it…the X-Blade."

The Senators grumbled to each other. "We are not interested in any theories that you may have."

Victor frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Senator stood. "We have evidence that you have been passing information back to Russia."

Christopher stood, slamming his hands on the table. "That is a ridiculous claim! You are making assumptions because he is not American."

"Dr. Xehanort, take your seat!"

"You are breaking the rules of the Constitution!"

"Xehanort!" cried the Senator. "Sit down!"

"My name is Christopher!"

"Xehanort!"

Christopher resisted the police that swarmed in. Victor tried to help his friend, but he, too, was forced down. The X-Blade was ripped from his hand, and he snarled at the man who took it.

"Give it back!" Victor yelled.

The X-Blade whirred and the gears clicking together gave off a smell of burning metal.

Victor panicked. "Let it go! It can't take it!"

The officer smirked at him and ignored him as he turned around. The X-Blade's whining grew louder and louder until it suddenly released a burst of energy that vaporized the wood tables and chairs and threw the people on the edges of the room back. The closest people had been completely disintegrated and all that was left were piles of ashes.

The Head senator uncovered his eyes. "You…killed them."

Victor stood and helped Christopher to his feet. "Are you okay?"

Christopher clutched his chest. "I think so. I feel weird."

"Perhaps a reaction from the energy of the X-Blade?" Victor said. "I mean, you did connect with the original."

"How did you make it?"

Victor smiled. "It took a while."

The Senator cleared his throat. "Dr. Vanitas. That thing. Can you make more?"

Victor smiled. "Of course."

_Shift…_

Christopher sat in an office, twiddling his thumbs. Based on the way he was dressed, it had to have been the late nineties. The walls around were covered in diagrams of stars and universes.

He hadn't aged a day.

A door at the end of a hallway opened and a man in his early twenties headed down the hallway with a look of pure hatred on his face. His hair was frizzed, like he had fought someone.

"What?" the man snapped at Christopher.

"Dr. Sebastian Hoffman?"

The man nodded, still stern. "What do you want?"

"I heard you are at the head of the Astrology and Astrophysics fields."

"Yeah." Sebastian said.

Christopher stood up. "I want your help."

"With what?"

"Mapping the universe."

Sebastian's eye lit up. He suddenly was overcome with an intense look of awe. He looked like a man who had an obsession or an addiction that could never be cured or abated by anything other than the item of his obsession. He smiled.

"Okay."

_Shift…_

"Riku?"

Riku groaned.

"Riku?"

"I didn't kill him did I?" Isa growled. "Because that would be a huge waste of my time."

"Shut up!" Aqua screamed. "Riku?"

Riku groaned again and sat up. He was rubbing his temples when the sudden flashes of what he had just seen came back to him. He was startled, and he vomited.

"Fuck, man." Isa cried.

Riku trembled. "We are all going to die…"

Both Aqua and Isa's faces hardened. "That's not a joke."

Riku looked at them. "I'm not joking…" His heart fluttered. "I need to get back."

Aqua helped him to his feet. "Okay, you can go back. We can regroup later."

As they dropped Riku off back in Hell's Kitchen, Aqua wished sorely that she could talk to Riku alone. She didn't trust Isa for one second, and she wanted to let Riku in on what kind of information she sat on. She had a feeling that Riku was going places, and she wanted to be part of it. Even if she was just there to protect him.

She had had a similar path as she clawed her way to the top of her empire. She started in the streets, just like everyone else, but she was ruthless, doing whatever she needed to keep herself alive and her captain secret. She had killed, fought, and stole to get to where she got, and had even been through a couple of rounds of prostitution. She was tough, but her gentle and sexual exterior safeguarded her from a lot of the dangers that were out there now.

"Riku."

Riku turned. "What?"

Aqua opened her mouth, but closed it quickly. "Be safe."

Riku was slightly surprised by her statement, but he took it to heart. "Have a good night."

Aqua nodded. And Isa drove her away. They were silent, but Aqua had many other things on her mind.

Riku trudged up the stairs, and knocked on the door weakly. As he waited for Sora to completely ignore his instructions, the glare of the fluorescents bounced off the door knob, and it looked like there were numbers floating near the tiny halo. Just for a second. Riku shook his head and entered the room without a word.

Sora was about to ask him something, but a sudden rush of exhaustion washed over him, and thoughts about a woman he had never seen floated in his mind's eye. She was beautiful, with blue highlights laced through black hair. He felt a strong urge to do something to or for that woman, but he closed his eyes and cleared his mind.

He wasn't sure, but he thought that he just peeked into Riku's thoughts.

* * *

Roxas flopped on the couch in the den, too tired to move any farther into the massive underground compound. Every muscle ached, and the stench of blood was permanently burned into his nostrils. He had wrecked havoc and utter devastation on his single street.

He had first been beaten by Sora. His nose broken and his pride bruised. How could a complete novice beat him in hand to hand combat? Had he not trained his ass off for hours? Had he not destroyed the man responsible for stealing Xion's innocence? Had he not been God? Even if it was for just a second?

How could he have lost so easily?

He stabbed himself mentally, and was dimly aware that his nose was bleeding again. His nose had been broken. Smashed with a force much greater than he had initially thought. And though it had almost immediately begun to heal itself, the only thing that had actually been fixed was the position of his nose. It still hurt like a motherfucker, and would spontaneously bleed.

After being humiliated, Roxas had killed every person he came into contact with. Men, women, children, babies. And he felt no guilt. After reading a few more chapters of _The Human Mind, _the book Zexion had given him, he realized that guilt was the poor man's self mutilation. He was above that, and therefore, erased all seeds of guilt that had ever been planted.

He was a selfish, ruthless human being, but he had been God for a majority of the day. But, there was still that nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Sora had beaten him. Did that prove the original Keyblade's power? Or was that just luck?

Axel stumbled in the door about an hour after Roxas had given up for the day. He was shitfaced drunk. He grinned stupidly and flopped across from Roxas.

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

Axel lit a cigarette. "How'd it go?" He blew a sloppy smoke ring.

"I killed people…a lot of people." Roxas muttered. "I just couldn't help myself. It was never ending."

"Sounds like you had a rough first day." Axel said. "That's too bad."

"How about you?"

Axel smiled and flipped the TV on. "Just wait."

The reporter was standing in front of a building, holding her microphone just out of frame. She was smiling and she looked excited for something.

Axel laughed. "I called and said that a Senator Coolidge was going walk out of that hotel with a prostitute. I said to wait until the ten o'clock news to start before turning the cameras on. And look, there he is."

The camera followed Senator Coolidge and a woman, who was not a prostitute, but was his new publicist. They exited the hotel together, smiling and talking excitedly.

Roxas squinted. "I don't…"

"Shhhhh." Axel whispered. "Wait for it…"

The camera still followed the Senator.

"Wait for it…"

Roxas was about to look away, when an explosion that nearly took the TV off the wall blew the entire block across the street. The rubble flew everywhere, and the only thing that could be heard was the frantic screaming of people, and the sickening crunch of concrete on metal and glass on pavement. The sound was deafening, and the buildings along the entire city block crumbled and crashed in all sorts of directions, smashing buildings as far as ten blocks away.

"Holy shit!"

Axel laughed himself to tears, holding a detonator in his hands. "That'll learn them! Ha Ha! Did you see that, Roxas? What a fucking show!"

Roxas couldn't believe what he was seeing. It wasn't long before a helicopter got the whole picture, and a huge crater was blown in the middle of the city. It was horrifying, a spitting image of the Twin Tower's devastation nearly a decade ago. The fires, the papers, the bodies. The only thing missing was the plane.

"Xaldin wouldn't let me have his Boeing," Axel said, reading his mind. "That would have made it. Isn't it magnificent?"

"Just like a painting." Roxas muttered.

It wasn't long before Axel's phone rang. He flipped it open and listened for a brief second. He pushed a button, and the sound of Xehanort's voice filled the room.

"Absolutely magnificent, Axel. Breath taking." Xehanort said. Axel beamed. "But, Roxas, I was missing you. I didn't see anything about you on the news. Though the Internet flared up. YouTube, MySpace, Twitter. You fought remarkably well. I'm just not sure who got more attention from the world."

"Axel," Roxas whispered.

"Well done, you two." Xehanort said. Roxas could just imagine the look of joy on his face. "You deserve a well needed rest, but you are not finished. I expect you up bright any early tomorrow."

"Yessir," Axel hiccupped.

"And, Roxas." Xehanort warned. "I want to see you first thing on TV. Send a message to your girlfriend. I'm sure that should be proper motivation."

Roxas nodded, fully aware that Xehanort could not see him.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Axel and Roxas said in unison.

Axel hung up the phone. He stood up and stretched. He remained silent as he left the den and headed to his room. Roxas didn't move. His body still ached from his rigorous treachery. He wanted to go to his room and shower and slip into bed, but it already felt too empty without Xion lying next to him.

He already missed her.

* * *

Hawaii was at least five hours behind New York, but it certainly felt like more than that. Zexion was exhausted as he stepped off the plane. He ignored the beautiful women that tried to give him ceremonial leis, as it was common in Hawaii for tourists to receive those kinds of gifts.

He remained silent the whole ride to the hotel, not wanting to engage in any kind of conversation. As soon as he thought about Kairi, everything else took a back seat. He knew in order to get himself focused, he was going to have to find time to be alone.

And that was probably the most embarrassing thing about being human. The need to pleasure oneself when they could not have what they wanted. But, it was natural, despite what any political parties would say about it. It wasn't wrong, and it wasn't dirty, but that didn't stop people from feeling that way. Zexion cursed himself for having such carnal desires, but he brushed them away for later.

"Zexion?" Xion asked softly.

Zexion looked at her, only vaguely aware that she was actually talking to him. "What?"

Xion looked away. "What are you going to do?" She paused. "I mean while we're here."

Zexion thought for a moment. "I am first going to get some sleep. I've lost five hours of my day and I need to be at the top of my game before I do my job. Then, I'm going to take a shower."

_And masturbate like a fucking idiot, _Zexion lamented. He felt dirty just thinking about it.

"And then I'm going to go out into the field while you enjoy a vacation."

Xion glanced at him, feeling like Zexion was purposely attacking her with that tone. He sounded so impassive. And it made her sad to see that a human being, especially one so young, could be so…_heartless._

This thought did two things for Xion. The first thing that instantly sprang to mind was the fact that she did not like Zexion. He was too cold. Too reluctant to let anyone or anything into his mind. He would not share his thoughts, or give any indication that he even enjoyed or tolerated her presence. He was a stone. A schemer. A Nobody.

The second thing that came to her, was that Zexion was incredibly and undoubtedly lonely. She could only imagine how intense that feeling was, churning away at his guts, making him want to wither and die. She had seen how the others interacted with each other, talking, touching and moving around one another like well known friends.

But Zexion was the only one who did not speak with the same inflections, nor did he smile, or wink, or give any kind of emotion, which only added to her first thought. There was only that undying loyalty to Xehanort. And that seemed to be the only thing that could invoke a response.

Zexion left Xion to her own room and fell onto his bed. He groaned impatiently as he sat up, sighing deeply and removing his shirt. He didn't want to touch himself. It wasn't the proper way to vent such powerful sexual frustration. He needed penetration.

He stood up and opened his door, looking down both hallways. He saw the stewardess from the plane earlier today. She frowned and looked away from him. She had thought he was boring. There was no way she was going to take advantage of such a lifeless person. But, she had done worse.

"Looking for something?" she asked politely.

Zexion, in his calculating voice answered with a tone that was flat and devoid of emotion. "I need to fuck something so I can stop fantasizing about a girl I met in high school."

"Awfully blunt, aren't you?"

Zexion looked her up and down. "You would do, but you would only repress the feelings for maybe a day, if that. By tomorrow, I would be tormented by my human desires once more. Then I would more likely resort to masturbation to relieve myself of such inconveniences."

The stewardess couldn't tell if she was repulsed by what Zexion just said, or if she was turned on. She wasn't sure, but maybe she could do the sociopath thing. Zexion opened his door wider, and the stewardess walked in.

* * *

**Zexion sure knows how to get some. Har. I loved writing this chapter. I was going to go somewhere else with Riku and Aqua with that "talk" thing they were supposed to do, but I'm intimidated by the thought of writing smut. I don't think I would be good at it. And I'm not sure how relevent it would be to the story. I don't like pointless sex scenes. It takes away from the plot and stuff like that.**

**Anyway, I'm ranting. I'm going to participate in NaNoWriMo. I'm excited, but I'm not going to publish any of it. Wish me luck. My task starts tomorrow. I sure hope I can do it. And I'm excited to see what DeadShut will write for me.**

**I don't know, but sometimes I think we are telling each other a story, adding onto whatever had been presented to us previously. And somehow it flows together flawlessly. We are two completely different people, telling one story in a way that no one has ever seen before. I'm so honored to be writing with someone so talented. *bows to DeadShut* You have my undying and unwavering Author respect.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us.**


	16. The Rock Star

**Keeping his short. DeadShut spent alot of time on this chapter, and you will soon see why. I was utterly blown away by this chapter, and you better too. I'm not even sure how I'm going to follow this chapter. I think I have an idea, but I dunno.**

******Hello, all! DeadShut is back...and badder than ever! Sorry for the delay. I think I made up for it with this chapter. If you're not screaming in terror at the end of it, I applaud you. *removes hat and bows* Have a nice read.**

**Enjoy, motherfuckers.**

* * *

Xehanort was ecstatic, for he had never flown across the Atlantic Ocean before. Below him was an endless blue, an eternal sapphire, the gem Mother Earth was given by the universe. It brought out the poet in him. He was also excited, for he had never been to Italy before, and he had always wanted to see Venice…which is where he was meeting his associate.

"This is great, isn't it?" he mused enthusiastically out loud to Xaldin, who was sitting next to him on the plane with the same blank expression he always had.

Xaldin gave a grunt and a nod.

"Oh, phooey," said Xehanort. "You never really have any fun, do you?"

"Sometimes, sir," said Xaldin in his soft, yet deep, voice. "You tend to be rather annoying."

Xehanort burst into laughter and patted his bodyguard on the shoulder. They had been on the plane all day, so it was natural for Xaldin to be a little cranky.

The plane landed twenty minutes later, at the Venice Marco Polo Airport. The two walked off, no bags and no luggage in their hands, and made their way out into the glorious, sunny, and Italian day.

"Why," pouted Xaldin. "Of all places for you two scary-smart geniuses to meet up, did he have to pick _Venice_?"

"It's such a beautiful town, though," replied Xehanort, indignant. "And we're not even there yet. This is the town of Tessera, north of Venice. It's a four-mile walk for you and I."

Xaldin groaned.

"Now, now!" said Xehanort. "I've had enough of this attitude of yours. I'm only asking for one day to meet with him, and that's _it_. Stop being such a child."

There was quiet amongst them for a moment, and Xaldin broke it by saying, "Y'know, it's _night-time_ here, or it will be in a couple of hours or so."

"Shut up, smartass."

They grinned at each other and began to walk.

* * *

Lexaeus awoke in his small tent at dawn, his bladder about to burst with piss. He hurriedly crawled out of his peculiar-smelling sleeping bag, and ran out of his tent barefoot, holding his crotch as if that would stop his painful need to urinate. He found a healthy-looking tree and soaked it with his pee out of spite. When he was done, he looked back towards his campsite.

He had arrived here, in a small forest near the Delaware River, yesterday. There were no towns for six or seven miles in any direction, but he was only a couple yards away from the river. His van was parked under the camouflage of some shrubbery and low trees. His tent and campfire, however, were in a nice clearing with less plants and more earth. The fire, at the moment, was dying down a bit. He began to pick up twigs, and built a pyramid-like structure, which began to burn efficiently. He smiled at the blaze, savoring the way the embers licked up the thinner sticks, snapping them, destroying them, reducing them to dust. There was nothing that could stop fire; on occasion, even water itself burned. Pleased with his handiwork, he sat down on the lawn chair he had set up for himself, opened the cooler beside it, and cracked open a small can of V8.

As he sipped, he thought of his childhood.

My God, those had been the days. Ten-years-old, ambitious, kind, courteous…and while other kids were wasting their time on such trivial activities like playing stickball or wall-ball, Alex Curtis had been making penny bombs. Ever since being three-years-old and seeing his first fireworks display for a Fourth of July parade, Alex had been infatuated with pyrotechnics. In high school, he had learned many things in his Chemistry class, and soon he was working in the dangerous craft of making bombs. This had been acknowledged by his peers, who were all fond of him, and he was given nicknames such as "Firebug" and "Pyro" and whatnot. Lexaeus had loved those nicknames, wore them with pride, even marked them on his school papers.

Once he had graduated, Lexaeus Curtis applied for a job at a couple of firework-manufacturers, but they turned him down for the position he had asked for (a very high position) because he lacked college education. Deciding to perhaps go to school to become a chemist, he took a tour of one university, where he met fellow pyromaniac Lea Conrad. The two took a liking to each other instantly, and soon opened up their own small fireworks company, selling spectacular products and making quite a hefty sum of cash every Fourth of July.

Unfortunately, bigger companies began to mimic their formerly-unique displays, and the two were beginning to run out of business. Thankfully, their talents caught the attention of Chris Xehanort, and they joined the Organization. Lexaeus had joined first, and started the group off with Xigbar, Vexen, and Xaldin, and together the five of them began to recruit. They came across the clever yet sociopathic Zeke Fender, who at the time was working part-time as a computer hacker for the Heartless, and he became a wonderful asset to the Organization. Then came along the devilishly ambitious Saix, who Xehanort took an immediate liking to; the scarred-man reaching to the rank of second-in-command. Afterwards, Lexaeus had convinced Xehanort to try and recruit the devil-may-care Lea, who henceforth became Axel. After him, Demyx. Then Luxord. Marluxia broke out of prison a week after Luxord's joining, and Xehanort immediately recruited the serial killer, who had an undying loyalty to him. Larxene was taken en route to prison for murdering her patients at the hospital she worked at…then, of course, was Roxas and Xion.

Lexaeus liked Member XIII very much. He saw much potential in the kid.

_Best get a move on_, he thought suddenly. He doused the fire, grabbed his backpack from the tent, and made his way to the bank of the Delaware, where his raft waited for him. He got aboard, and began to paddle down the beautiful river that cut through many cliffs and forests in the spot where Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York met. Clouds of gray inhabited the sky, craving to cover the sun.

It was a nice day to plan a massacre.

* * *

"Wake up."

"Riku…"

"Wake _up_, Sora."

"Lemme lone."

"Wake up!"

Sora opened his eyes groggily, stretching in the hotel bed he was sharing with Kairi…or _had_ been sharing with Kairi. She was now standing in the bathroom, the only place in the hotel room that had its lights on, doing her hair. She was fully-dressed.

Riku stood next to Sora's bed, looking anxious.

"Today's the big day," he said. "Are you ready?"

"Shit!" yelled Sora, pushing the blankets off of him and standing up. "I'm sorry, Riku, I totally forgot…today's the day we…"

"Kidnap Demyx, yes."

Sora's eyes wandered to the corner of the room, where two men in black dress shirts were lurking in the shadows. Heart dropping, thinking of the many horrific people he had come to hear of these past few days, he pulled out the Keyblade and pointed it at the strangers.

"Sora, relax," soothed Riku. "It's just Don and Goofy."

"Oh." Sora pocketed the blade. "Sorry, guys! Good to see you!"

Mick's two bodyguards smiled and gave curt nods. Kairi came out of the bathroom, looking beautiful as ever. Sora was now the only one in the room not dressed or properly groomed. Muttering in embarrassment, he walked into the bathroom and began to get tidied up. When he was done, he looked at himself in the mirror. It was quite an interesting get-up that he had been given to wear, with a flowered shirt underneath a black jacket that reminded him of clothes big Hollywood stars wore. He came out, and Riku wolf-whistled mockingly.

"Fuck you," said Sora, smiling. Riku laughed heartily, missing the seductive wink Kairi gave to Sora. Sora blushed.

Once he had sobered up, Riku asked Don, "Do you have the ID's?"

"Yes, they're right here…"

Sora was given a plastic-encased identification card.

"My name is 'Jon Gunner'?" he asked, incredulous. "Nobody in their right mind is going to believe this name is genuine."

"They better," said Goofy, handing another ID to Kairi. "Because Mr. Gunner is a big-shot music critic who is currently locked in a closet back in D.C. You look a helluva lot like him, though, so it all flows wonderfully."

"Ah. Does the critic frequently wear clothing like this?"

"He's a douche, so yes."

"Oh, wonderful…"

Don went over the list of supplies they were to be using throughout this operation, which included a small wireless microphone that Sora would be placing in the assigned location, a couple canisters of tear gas, and, for each of them, a small handgun. Sora turned the weapon over in his hands, not liking the feel of it; unlike the Keyblade, which was a piece of technology wrapped in enigma and unknown intentions, the pistol's use was as clear as day: assassination, murder, destruction. Sora assumed that the wielder's heart must have to be as cold as the metal barrel in order to use it properly.

Again, he was plagued by thoughts of guilt.

"Now," said Riku. "Are you all ready for the off? Because I have one final revelation to tell you before anything happens.

"Guys, I am not going to help out with this hit."

Sora's mouth dropped open, and saw his expression mirrored by his three other companions.

"_Riku_!" shrieked Kairi. "What the _fuck_ are you talking about?"

"Lately, things have been going on with me." He turned to Sora. "Things going on in my head. And I think that fucking Keyblade is behind it, Sora, I really do. I'm thinking I might have…touched one before. I'm seeing things that aren't quite right, and it's getting worse, taking a hold over me. If I were to go with you guys, there could be the risk of me harming you or harming the entire operation."

"B-but-" began Sora.

Riku interrupted firmly, "Relax, man. I trust you guys on this one. Kairi, you're the strongest girl I've ever met. Sora, you have impressed me time and time again, and after facing that masked guy out in the streets, I have no doubt in my mind that you're able to carry this mission off successfully. Don and Goofy will be right there with you. But I have to stay out. I'll be tending to…other matters. So no worries."

Sora grabbed his stomach, which felt as though someone had dropped a hot ball of lead into it, and moaned. How could Riku sit this one out? Wasn't…well, wasn't Riku their _leader_? This would be like going to a parent-teacher conference…without a parent.

Riku put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder and said, "You can do this, Sora. I fucking _know_ you can, okay? Keep Kairi safe. Stick with Don and Goof'. And, most importantly, _listen._ Listen _closely_, to _everything_. You can do this."

Sora croaked, "I feel like everything's about to change forever."

Riku sighed and brushed his bangs out of his face.

"So do I."

* * *

Once his friends were gone, Riku walked around the city for a while, trying to take his mind off of things. That seemed to be the problem now: his mind. He was never much of a thinker, more of a _doer_, so these intruding thoughts were starting to get to him. He tried desperately to take his mind off of it. Perhaps he could try and get laid…but sex without Aqua seemed somewhat disloyal.

_She's not your girlfriend._

Yeah, but still.

Instead of getting laid, however, Riku found himself taking a bus to God knew where, sitting beside a peculiar-looking young man in a tuxedo.

"Getting married?" Riku asked politely.

The man blinked, as if he were awakening from a trance, and laughed when what was said had clicked.

"Married? Oh, no," chuckled the young man. "I'm just a slave to appearances. Furthermore, I have to meet with some _big_ people."

"Big people?"

"Very big," confirmed the dressed man, nodding. "Bigger than one would think."

"It's awful hard to do so nowadays, thinking," muttered Riku.

The man gave an expression of pity before saying, "Now, thinking's not so tough. I myself love to do it all the time."  
"Yeah, well, I doubt you get intrusive thoughts. Or, at least, the intrusive thoughts _I_ am getting."

"Baloney. Intrusive thoughts or not, we are all in control of our own minds. Sure, there are some thoughts that may seem intrusive and annoying, but those are merely ideas struggling to get recognition. The best way to get rid of such annoying thoughts is to simply acknowledge their existence and move on."

Riku raised his eyebrows, utterly moved by this man's words.

"Acknowledge their existence and move on," Riku repeated in a low voice as he mused. "Sometimes it seems hard to do so. Sometimes I feel small. Sometimes I feel like nothing matters."

The man smiled and said, "What matters is that we people are happy with our lives. Humanity is such a small speck on the timeline of the universe, and it would be wise to not fret over a mere speck…wouldn't you agree? You seem like the kind of guy who wants to save the world from every last evil that lurks within its dark corners. I can assure you now, friend, that you can never perform such a task."

"But I want to so _badly_…I feel _obligated_ to…"

"Well, why should you? To be remembered for a period of time, and then forgotten? Concern yourself only with what matters most to you: your life. You cannot see the past, you will not see the future, so live in the present. And contribute to society with whatever you can. And if you live long enough to hear whatever answers there are to this enigma of life, than good for you. If not…I don't think you'll be around to care very much."

"Hm."

The bus stopped. The man stood up.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with some people."

"Big people."

"_Very_ big people."

The man was halfway off the bus when Riku called, "Wait! I never got your name!"

The man turned and smiled heartily.

"My dear friend, you should already know! Has it really not occurred to you yet? My name is D-"

"Oi!" said the rather unpleasant bus driver. "Gerroff the bus! I've gots four more stops this afternoon."

The well-dressed man gave Riku an apologetic smile, then bowed and made his way off the bus. Riku watched the eccentric man walk down the road and disappear from sight within the constant flowing rivers of people that ran on the sidewalks of Manhattan.

As the bus started again, Riku considered what he had just been told.

_Acknowledge and move on_.

Acknowledge and move on.

He pulled out a spare pen in his pocket, and began to write something on his arm, mindlessly and instinctively.

It was only about thirty seconds later that Riku realized he was subconsciously writing numbers.

* * *

Xehanort and Xaldin were sitting in front of a café in Venice, sipping on delicious coffees and watching the gondolas float through the canals that cut into this beautiful city like aquatic daggers. Xehanort found the entire city to be heavenly, and had even considered staying for more than just a day or two…but there were matters that needed to be tended to back in the States, and there were times for pleasure in life, yet also times to get the serious work done.

He was too entranced by the beauty of this place that he almost didn't notice when a shady man in a black leather trench coat walked over and sat down at the table the two Organization Members were sharing. The man was wearing shades on his tan and wrinkly face. Streaks of white dashed through his dark hair. His overall build was strong and athletic; he looked like the personification of a rock that just wouldn't budge.

"My dear friend," cried Xehanort. "It's been too long!"

"Very true," spoke the shady-looking man. His English was incredibly broken with a heavy Russian accent. "But, then again, it has not been long enough. I still have that sense of dread when I look at your _disgusting_ face."

Xehanort barked laughter, and clasped a hand onto Victor Vanitas' back. Vanitas himself was chuckling, revealing a mouth full of gold and silver teeth. The man's appearance unnerved Xaldin, but seeing the Superior's comfort around this peculiar-looking person calmed his anxiety.

"My Lord, where are my manners?" Xehanort scolded himself. "Victor, this is my own personal guard and associate, Xaldin. Xaldin, this is Victor Vanitas, one of the first men in the world to reconstruct a sufficient Keyblade."

"It is an honor, sir," said Xaldin quietly, shaking Vanitas' hand.

"Honor? Ha!" Vanitas snorted. "I haven't heard such respect in a long time."

"Damn shame, too, because you certainly deserve it," piped up Xehanort. "Ooo, Xaldin, here comes our coffee!"

A pretty brunette waitress came out of the café with a tray of beverages in hand. He placed two coffees on the table.

"_Grazie_," said Xehanort, and felt giddy when the Italian word rolled off his tongue.

"_Prego._" The waitress turned with a smile and left.

"You did not order me a coffee?" asked Vanitas.

"Victor, please. Almost all of your teeth are gone already. Coffee most certainly would not help your hygiene."

"Same old Christopher," muttered Victor. "Hard to tell whether his head is in the Heavens of Ambition, or merely up his own asshole."

"Same old Victor. Playing the part of the comedian, yet never obliging to give us a smile."

"Why would you want to see me smile? I thought my teeth were bad."

"They _are_ bad. Hideous, even. But that's why I love them."

Xaldin cleared his throat and interjected. "Why don't we talk about why we're here?"

"Oh, of course, thank you, Xaldin…Anyways, Victor, I have been working on an operation with twelve of the most brilliant men and women to ever walk on the soils of America."

"That says nothing," Vanitas snorted again.

"Well, _I_ chose them to work with me, so _that_ should say something. Anyways, we have one of our guys dealing in the U.S.'s black market to get some weapons. The usual stuff; machine guns, hand grenades, rocket launchers, explosives, mines, and anything that can be smuggled from the military."

Vanitas whistled. "You building an army, friend?"

"Precisely," said Xehanort, leaning over his coffee and giving his old colleague a smirk.

Vanitas raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"You _are_ building an army?" he asked.

"Yes. Our operations are none of your concern, I'm afraid, but I do believe I need weapons _other_ than your everyday shit. Weapons of a special kind." He put emphasis on this last part.

Vanitas blinked, clearly in shock over what he was hearing. He shook his head like a dog shaking off water after a bath, and then his metallic grin resurfaced.

"I have just what you're looking for."

They brought the coffees with them, not bothering to pay.

_Gods don't pay_, thought Xehanort merrily.

Victor Vanitas lead them to an alleyway between two colorful buildings. Beyond this alleyway was a canal, and the cement of the ground beneath them was wet. This was not the ideal place to get a tan, or to stay dry; it was dark and moist. The atmosphere was not unlike that of being in a sewer. On the side of one of the buildings that made up the alleyway was a wooden door. Vanitas opened it and lead them inside his apartment.

"Apartment" was not a proper term for this kind of living condition. The word "hive" or "dam" would come to mind to any sane person who saw it. Garbage and spare parts of God knows how many pieces of various technology piled up in mountains across the floor.

Upon seeing it, Xehanort said cheerfully to Xaldin, "This is rather cozy, isn't it?"

Xaldin, used to his superior's natural glee, grunted in false assent.

"Welcome to my paradise," said Vanitas happily. "I know it's a bit of a mess, but…y'know…ever since those fuckers deported me, life's been hard. America has much opportunity, though it lacks the intelligence to acknowledge how fortunate of an empire it is. But that's besides the point. What do you need, specifically?"

"First of all," said Xehanort in a strictly-business tone that Xaldin enjoyed hearing, however rare it was. "I would very much like a weapon for myself."

"A Keyblade?" asked Vanitas. Xaldin felt his heart beat faster with excitement; the Keyblade-weapons had always infatuated him.

"No," said Xehanort. "Not a Keyblade. I fear that Keyblades are starting to become too common…another wielder was seen recently. I want something similar, but not too similar."

Vanitas smiled. "I've got just the thing."

The Russian demolished some piles of electronics, knocking them over like Godzilla knocked over the buildings of Tokyo. Once Vanitas' back was turned, Xehanort looked over at Xaldin and gave him a small wink. Xaldin nodded at this signal, slightly tensing up.

_Good boy_, thought Xehanort.

Vanitas turned with what looked like two long, slender, plastic cylinders in his hands.

"What are those?" asked Xehanort with a child-like curiosity.

"These," said Vanitas, beaming proudly. "Are apart of a set of weapons that I like to call the Ethereal Blades. The Blades are not extraterrestrial like the Keyblade, of course, but are just as miraculous as them in battle. The Ethereal Blades are producers and conductors of strong heat and radiation. The plastic tubing is to keep this deadly mix contained, and also to provide an infrared visual that makes the Blades turn crimson. Observe."

He took the Blades one in each hand, and moved a sliding trigger up the plastic tube. The Ethereal Blades began to glow red. Xehanort felt his mouth drop into a gape.

"Incredible, isn't it?" said Vanitas, grinning. He twirled the Blades in his fingers. "The devices contain a small amount of computer-programming, which gives them the ability to detect human flesh and reduce the amount of radiation and conducted heat on and around whatever part of the Blades the user is grasping. The rest, however, is as hot as molten rock, able to cut through anything like a butter knife cuts through butter."

"My God…" croaked Xehanort. "Why haven't you sold these designs yet?"

Vanitas turned the Ethereal Blades down, and dropped them on the floor roughly; Xehanort winced at this infuriating mistreatment of such beautiful instruments of destruction.

"Well," Vanitas explained as he picked up a half a bottle of whiskey from seemingly nowhere. "Such inventions are hard to smuggle from one country to another. Everyone would want their hands on it, would they not? That's why I keep most of my devices in a safe next to my fridge. But that doesn't mean I don't do my fair share of business from time to time. A local…_associate_ of mine makes deals with me once in a while. In fact, he keeps tabs on me all the time. He'll even know you're here to see me."

Xehanort froze. "What do you mean?"

"What, do I have to spell it out for you?" asked Vanitas, chuckling. "There's a mob near here that's employed me. I even told them you were coming today. They'd probably be happy to meet you."

"You _told someone I was here_?" hissed Xehanort, aghast. Xaldin stared at the Superior, alarmed. People knowing about the Organization's business was _not good_, not good at _all_.

"Yeah," said Vanitas, frowning. "So what? Look, you can have the weapons, okay? But my boss is gonna want to check you out before he lets you go anywhere. That alright?"

Xehanort said grimly, "Yes, Victor. That's quite alright."

"Splendid."

Vanitas lifted his head and closed his eyes as he took another swig from the glass bottle of whiskey. Xehanort looked at Xaldin and nodded. Xaldin nodded right back at him, eyes clouded with panic.

Vanitas removed the bottle from his mouth right before Xaldin raised his trusty silenced pistol and blew the Russian away.

* * *

Sora was nervous.

Dressed in douche bag clothing, wearing shades, stomach empty from the lack of breakfast or lunch, walking by himself amongst strangers, he was incredibly uncomfortable. Wanting a reassurance that everyone was still okay and outside in Goofy's van, Sora pressed the tiny Bluetooth-like device plugged in his ear and asked:

"Are you guys still alright?"

Don replied, "Yes, Sora. Stop worrying about us. We don't need you to fuck this up by being nervous. Just get going."

"Yessir."

He clicked off the Bluetooth and walked down the backstage hall of Quentin Arena, where thousands of people were flocking to see Demyx live. Sora had slickly gotten backstage by showing the false pass to the security out front, and was now wandering, looking for Demyx's room. He had been told that right now, Demyx was running late due to traffic, so Sora could easily slip in and out…hopefully.

He eventually found a door labeled "Star Room". Sora raised his fist to knock, then realized that performing such an act would be absurd in a situation like this, so he merely opened the door.

The Star Room was devoid of people, but full of many things nonetheless. Mirrors, costumes, things of that sort. Sora admired this, and had an urge to start trying things on and posing in front of the mirror. Then he pictured the faces of the audience would have if _he_ were to walk out on that stage instead of Demyx, and start doing poses in one of the many frilly outfits in this room. This thought made him laugh heartily.

The piece in his ear vibrated.

He pressed the button on the side and spoke, "Hello?"

"Sora," said Goofy urgently. "You need to get out of there. _Right now_. Demyx has just arrived and for some reason has brought a god-damned group of bodyguards. I've no idea why, but they all look like the disciples of Al Capone, and I think it would be wise if you got out of his damn private quarters, for I fear these men will rip you apart, and-"

"Okay," said Sora, voice shaking. "I got it, Goof. Message received. I'll just plant the bug and get out, so we can maybe hear where he's off to after the gig. See you in five minutes."

"Alright."

Goofy hung up. Sora pressed the button on the earpiece, and pulled the microphone he was given back at the hotel room out of his pocket. He got out a roll of duct tape and stuck the little microphone under a desk upon which a large mirror was placed. He switched the microphone on, and left in a hurry.

He went out into the parking lot, wincing a bit because of the cold rain that started soaking him. A white van was parked in the middle of the lot, and he hurried over to it.

Kairi opened the door for him. He jumped inside.

The interior of the back of the van was dark because of the lack of windows, but a bunch of screens provided quite a bright light. At these screens, sitting in an office chair, was Don. He spun in the chair and sighed with relief at the sight of Sora. Goofy was in the driver's seat, and he, too, was clearly relieved to see Sora unharmed.

Kairi hugged him. "Thank God. I got so worried when I saw those guys with Demyx."

Sora blushed, but maintained his cool (for once), "Hey, it wasn't that big of a deal. I've been through worse."

Kairi looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back.

Don said, "Alright, Kairi. Time for _your_ mission. Infiltrate the arena by using your fake ticket. Look around until you find a refreshment vendor. Then…" He smiled. "Bring us all back some hot dogs. Can you perform this task?"

Kairi laughed. "Sure, _Donald._"

"Get out of my van, you ginger punk."

Laughing, Kairi jumped out of the van and closed the door behind her. Sora watched her go, heart racing. God, how she excited him…how she was like a beam of light that he could not stop looking at despite the pain. He wondered when they could have a relationship, if ever, beyond their lives as Mick's agents. Even after she was gone, Sora stared at the door after her. The room seemed much darker without her in here.

Don cleared his throat loudly. Sora turned.

"You love her, don't you?" asked Don, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Wha-?" Sora began, taken aback. "Wh…No, of course not…"

"Save it, alright? I know love when I see it. No worries; I won't tell Riku. That's not what I'm implying. I just want to warn you."

Sora frowned. "Warn me?"

"Yes. Warn you about this 'love' you're feeling. You see, Sora, love is a wonderful thing. Especially when the one you love loves you back. Companionship, friendship, and sexual partnering…they're a glorious combination of enjoyment and pleasure, human ecstasy at its finest. But there is also a dark side to love."

"Like _Star Wars_?"

Don sighed in exasperation. "Yes, like _Star Wars. _Love, Sora, is a powerful emotion. Enjoy it while you can…but don't let it get to your head. At least, don't let it get _too_ deep into your head. Because if something goes wrong and makes your love falter, terrible things can happened. You can lose yourself, and once that has happened, there is no end to the amount of people that can manipulate you. There are many sensitive people out there, Sora, but some are as shadowy as…well, as the people who took your parents. When talking about problems that occur from love, there are two outcomes, and only two. Outcome number one: the victim accepts fate and moves on. Outcome number two: the man dwells on it, loses his humanity, and allies himself with monsters. You need to be careful, Sora. In a world of heartbreak and betrayal, you can never be too biased towards neither loyalty nor neglect."

Sora blinked, utterly shocked from the insight this seemingly-quiet man had just spoken. He honestly had no clue what to say. The advice was somewhat morbid, yes, but it was also caring, fatherly, even.

Although unsure what to say, Sora croaked, "I…"

He was saved from the trouble of coming up with a thank you, for one of the many speakers within the van began to pick up some sound.

"…no, dammit…look…"

"It's him," said Don, rolling over to the speaker and turning it up. "It's Demyx."

Sora's heart leapt as he listened.

"Look, Luxord, I don't have _time_ for this. The Superior wants you here, _now_, otherwise you're dead. For real this time, man. Do you even know what we've been through the last couple of days? Some serious shit."

"He's on the phone with someone," whispered Goofy, who had clambered back to listen. Sora nodded.

"Oh," said Demyx, voice loud and mocking. "You think I can just _tell_ you what's been happening so you don't have to come back to New York? If you don't get back here in a day or two, my ass is grass. Stop dickin' around, man, or we're _both_ screwed."

Sora looked at Don, mouth agape. This kind of talk was extremely eerie, the kind of talk that a man fearing for his life would be using.

"Look, Luxord-_Look_. We've all gotten our monthly assignments again, and mine was to look you the fuck up and get you back here ASAP. We're not that high-ranking in this shit, man, and lately we've both been slackin' off…you think the Superior won't pop us both without hesitation, you fucking asshole? Or even worse…get _Marluxia_ to do us in? That pink-haired motherfucker concerns me. Please, get the fuck back here. Okay. Okay. Alright, see you."

No more noise. Demyx had left the room.

"Son of a _bitch_," whispered Goofy. "You were right, kid."

Don called up Kairi and told her to come back out to the van while they pursued Demyx.

"Wait, what?" asked Sora, incredulous. "We're going after him _here_? _Now_?"

"If not now, then when?" asked Don. Sora saw he and Goofy were both carrying machine pistols and were now loading them up with clips of bullets. He felt his heart sink, but still took out his own pistol.

_This is war_, he thought miserably.

They got out of the van and walked to the arena again. Don and Goofy played their parts as Sora's bodyguards wonderfully, and soon they were backstage again. It was rather quiet back here, near-empty except for a group of approaching men in black. In the center was a man clothed dramatically in blue, holding a large guitar.

It was _him_. Demyx. The rock star and mercenary who had assisted in the kidnapping of Sora's parents. And he was coming straight towards them.

"The bodyguards," hissed Sora to his two comrades. "What do we do?"

Don and Goofy looked at each other grimly.

"Oi!" shouted one of Demyx's guards rudely. "Who the fuck are you three, and why are you here?"

The replies of Don and Goofy were certainly not any more polite than this man was; the bullets of the machine pistols riddled the stranger and he fell backwards, dead as a doornail. The others took out their own guns, but they were no match for Mick's professional agents, and soon the room was covered in blood, gun smoke filling the air. Arms covering his face, guitar on the floor, Demyx stood amongst the carnage, clearly terrified.

Don moved forward quickly and put a potato sack over the rock star's head. The three of them escorted him out of the building and hurriedly into the van, where Kairi waited.

Sora felt as proud as ever, and suddenly much more hopeful than he had even been on this entire adventure. They had _done it_; they had gotten him.

* * *

Diz walked merrily into Club Heartless, the place of massacre that the pink-haired stranger had so wonderfully delivered. Diz could almost _feel_ the ghosts of this place moaning and groaning, and he enjoyed it very much. Owning a club where a massacre took place…another check on the bucket list. He smiled happily.

Only one person sat in the Club, for Diz's men had put him here. The person was sitting by himself at a booth. His face was covered with shadow. Diz happily took a seat across the table from him.

"Hello, son," said Diz, beaming. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise, sir." A pause. "And thank you."

"No need for thanks, m'dear boy! _I_ should be thanking _you_. You told us valuable information about our enemies. The least I could do was get my smarter men to help bring you back. I must say, I've heard of near-death experiences many times before, but the fact that my people could revive you so easily with modern-day technology…it baffles me. I may be old, but I didn't think I was _that_ outdated!"

The man in shadows laughed.

"All levity aside…look, I know you have your enemies, you have your grudges. But that's all taking a backseat once you're working for me. Okay? The Heartless are on the brink of war with many people. We have too many enemies. But, I tell you, we shall _not_ fall. I think you, m'boy, can be quite an asset. Now that my tech-wizards have gotten you up and running again, something I thought would be impossible, I think it's time you've repaid the debt. Will you shake with me?"

A cold, metallic hand came from the shadows and shook Diz's old, spotty hand.

"Welcome to the Heartless," said Diz. "I do believe with you, we can cook up some _real_ trouble. And, for your new position, I think you need to get reacquainted with an old friend."

Diz produced a small handgun from his pocket and put in on the table.

Metal plates covered his face in patches, smiling as if he had never been happier in his strange and psychotic life, Pete McLean took the pistol back into his hands and felt complete again.

* * *

**Amazing chapter. Nuff said. I've gotta go type a masterpiece. NaNoWriMo, you know. Over 30,000 you know.**

**Has a nice day. :)**


	17. Targets

**Good evening to everyone. I am having just a woinderful time, typing away for NaNoWriMo ****and such. So far, I have reached a little less than forty thousand words. Marla Shift's story is almost complete. Yay.**

**So, DeadShut promised to not take three weeks to write the next chapter, but if he needs to take his time, SO BE IT. Don't be alarmed. We do have lives outside the internet. But we promise to deliver quality entertainment. :)**

**Moving on. I loved this chapter. Believe me there is a lot of word vomit, but it's the good kind. I'm not sure if anyone would catch that reference, but whatever.**

**Hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving, and stuffs themselves because we are the only country on this earth that would have a holiday devoted to making skinny people fat. I'm ranting. *sigh***

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Lawrence Eiseman, known as Isa in many circles, had always been fond of Aqua. He had been there from the beginning. At first he had been innocent, offering advice to his 'Sleeping Beauty', for he had been going to a local university to be a doctor. While there, he spent most of his time studying with Lea Conrad, a pyrotechnician who had started his own fireworks company with another student. They had become friends, and whenever Lea wasn't busy with his business, they would play pranks on the professors, and scare the residents of the town.

However, Isa would often go too far in his activity, and would tiptoe around the edges of the law. Getting arrested for disturbing the peace, illegal prescription drug possession, and even attempted murder. Though he would let those charges roll off his cool demeanor, he had lost his scholarships, was expelled from the university, and was given no other opportunity other than asking Aqua for help.

Aqua had agreed, being thankful for his previous advice and consolidation, and they formed a relationship that was a forceful reminder of just what could happen when two independent, opposing forces tried to work together. Isa was a person who did not acknowledge drug running or prostitution as a respectful line of work. He hated how the only person in the world he would give his life for was being used in such a disgusting way. He had seen Aqua's ups and downs first person, and wanted to keep her safe from them.

However, Aqua, who identified herself as a strong individual, would push Isa away whenever he tried to help her cope with her hard lifestyle. He resented her for it, but would never hurt her. He had always been the 'Big Brother' and she was the 'Sleeping Beauty' who needed protection. She wasn't going to let anyone tell her how to move forward, not even her Big Brother. She had convinced her captain to recruit Isa, and he was given a gun, a brand mark, and a list of names. He was instructed to protect Aqua at all costs. To never do anything for her unless instructed, and he had done just that.

Aqua had him doing menial tasks for a long time, and he would often call Lea up to assist him. Though he never told Lea what his intentions were, Lea was too happy to help him kill people who got in Aqua's way. Lea and Isa were a threat to everyone so long as they were under Aqua's control.

At the same time, Aqua was given her own set. Terra Hopsfield and Valentin "Ven" Claus. They were shipped to Philadelphia to take over, and Isa and Lea had followed. Lea, however, was starting to make quite a bit of money off his business, and left Isa without warning. No note, no sign, not even a god damn text message. From that point, forward, Isa was completely loyal to Aqua, killing anyone and everyone who posed even the slightest threat to her operations. Not even Terra and Ven knew about him.

But, over time, Aqua had claimed Philadelphia as her own, and began expanding her empire. She had even shared it, giving half the city to Isa as a gift. Isa accepted it, and ruled over his side of the city in a very different way. He didn't allow people to flow through his city unattended. Drug runners, thugs, mobsters, and assassins alike had to answer to him. They didn't like that very much, and stayed out of his side of Philly, choosing to work with Aqua instead.

Isa didn't like the fact he was losing control. Even though he didn't like drugs, and thought that owning a drug ring as large as his was a waste of time, he loved to get under Aqua's skin for fun, and had challenged her. Whoever could sell the most product in a week, would gain control over the entire city, and would work their way back to New York.

Aqua accepted naturally, thinking that she could move up the ladder. She lost miserably. Isa had out sold her. He had rubbed in her face so hard, she lashed out and claimed that she would never speak to him again. She left Philadelphia, passing along the crime circles that The City of Brotherly Love was neutral territory, and that all inquiries would go to Isa.

Isa let Philadelphia fall apart. He had been so neglectful, than when Aqua had taken New York and was moving down the coast, half the crime lords in the City of Philadelphia were killed off. Isa goaded her, asking if it was for revenge. She still hadn't spoken to him, but not even a week ago did he get a call from his Sleeping Beauty.

And now he was sitting in a car, staring at Riku. He had followed Aqua's new toy for days, staying out of sight, and taking notes. He had noticed many different things at once. The first thing being that he wasn't the only one keeping tabs on Riku. And the second thing was that the Heartless were getting bold, making stronger advances on Aqua's lesser assets. Buying local nightclubs and computer stores, not really raising any flags. Isa clicked his teeth.

He was going to kill them all.

Isa waited in his car as Riku stepped through the doors of another store. He sighed inwardly as he put bullets into his gun. He wanted to blow Riku's head off. Jealousy clogged his thought process, and he was utterly convinced that he was going to hurt Aqua. He cocked it, relishing the sound it made. He was actually considering getting out if the car and going to kill Riku now, but his cell phone vibrated.

"Shit," Isa growled. He flipped his phone open. "Hello?"

"Isa, where the fuck are you?"

Isa instantly brightened. "Hello, Aqua. Where am I? Why?"

"I'm making sure you're not fucking anything up."

Isa sucked in a breath. "I would never…"

"Stop following Riku."

Isa grinned and looked around. "You're watching me? That's hot. I love how you don't trust me."

"I don't trust anyone," Aqua hissed.

"Except Riku."

Aqua paused. "Don't underestimate me, Isa. I don't need you."

Isa laughed. "Yes you do." And he hung up the phone.

He ran his fingers through his hair and chuckled under his breath. He was annoyed that Aqua was having him watched, but he was interested in just how long he had this little bird following him. He opened the car door.

The sun was making its way to the ground despite the high-rises of the city. It was chilly, and people were traveling a little closer together, trying to sap the warmth off each other. Isa was alone in this mass of people, shrugging away from all of them. He wasn't a person who wanted to share anything he had with anybody. Aqua was the only one who was privy to the information he had.

He stretched outside of his car, still keeping his eyes on the store front. Even if Aqua had warned him against tailing Riku, she could not stop him from doing anything. He was one of the few people who worked with her who was out of her control. Riku had to have been another, and Aqua's mysterious former Captain. Isa smiled, thinking about just how much he loved what he did.

He was going to be a doctor. And he hated how he had lost that opportunity. If he hadn't been running with the wrong people at the University, he would have never done the things he did. And the fact that he had been abandoned didn't help. He rubbed his eyes groggily. He was already getting bored, and wanted to do something fun. It was illegal in the City of New York to have sex in a parked car, so he couldn't pick up a whore. And Aqua wasn't going to loan him one.

He figured that he could just get a little closer to Riku. He usually didn't get so close to his targets, but if Riku noticed, he could just play it off. He was good at that too, lying. He strolled into the store, which, to his surprise was a paper store. He milled through the aisles. He didn't see Riku, but he heard a faint muttering in the next row. He stopped and leaned closer to the shelf.

"He's in here somewhere." Said a man. "I saw him. He had these numbers written on his arm. Diz wants him alive, though."

"Shit, I thought we were going to spill some blood." Said another. "I'm sick of not getting recognition. We're Heartless, damnit. We deserve props."

"I know, but first we gotta find this little prick."

Isa tensed. What did Heartless want with Riku? He had heard that Terra wanted to recruit Riku in Washington D.C. But Riku had declined. Was it because he was working for the Heartless? Isa ground his teeth together. He was pissed.

He rounded the corner and saw Riku sitting at a desk, scribbling madly. Isa could see he was moving awkwardly, like he hadn't quite learned how to use his hands. Isa snuck up behind him. He could see thousands of symbols and numbers written in very small handwriting. Charts lined the edges of the page, and graphs were placed haphazardly through out the alien text. Isa wasn't that good at math. He nudged Riku, but there was no response.

"Oh, fuck, Riku." Isa whispered, looking around. He saw dozens of other pages with the same kind of writing on them. "What the fuck have you got yourself into?"

"Hey."

Isa turned. Two men were standing side by side. They had small guns, and Isa noticed, they were lacking in silencers.

"What the fuck do you want?" Isa growled.

"We want him," one of the men said. "He belongs to us."

Isa grinned. "Oh, so he works for you, huh?"

The men laughed. One of the store clerks came back. It was a young woman. She looked nervous, but she put up a tough front.

"You're going to have to keep it down, or leave," she said.

Isa smiled. "Oh, or course."

He raised his gun, shot the two Heartless in the head, and killed the clerk before she even had enough time to scream. He wiped the small spray of blood that landed on his cheek and nudged Riku again.

"Oi."

Riku didn't move, but he had stopped writing. He was shaking. Isa put his gun away, and patted Riku on the shoulder. "Let's go."

Riku stood without a word. He seemed okay. He moved normally, but he seemed out of it. Like he wasn't completely there.

Isa pushed him into his car and drove away. Riku was silent, and it unnerved Isa. He wanted Riku out of the way, but he didn't want to hurt Aqua. He figured that he would take him somewhere. Aqua wouldn't mind, but Isa wanted to question him. He wanted to find out what the fuck he had just seen.

"Riku…"

Riku was silent.

Isa looked at him. He cleared his throat. "Riku!"

Riku was still silent. His arm twitched. For a second he blinked, but then he looked at Isa. "What?"

Isa growled. "What the fuck was that?"

Riku frowned. "What?"

Isa slammed the brakes. "You know exactly what I'm talking about! Don't you think for one second that I'm not onto you!"

Riku ignored him and opened the door. "I don't have time for this shit. I'm leaving."

Isa jumped out of the car. He was furious. He had jumped to his own conclusions, and didn't care very much that he was blinded by jealousy and was possessive of Aqua. He drew his gun.

"Stop right fucking there, Riku!" Isa shouted. He pushed the barrel of his gun to the back of Riku's head.

Riku froze. His vision blurred, but as soon as he focused again, he could see numbers spinning from the wheels of cars, pouring out of store windows, and he could even see geometric calculations rising before him. Charts floated around him, giving exact measurements of where he stood in comparison to everything else. He groaned out loud and clutched his head.

"Leave me alone!"

Isa faltered, but regained his ground. He thought that Aqua would be angry if he died, but it would be for the better in the long run. "Tell me who you're working for!"

Riku looked at him, but didn't see him. He tried to keep his bearings, but he had this uncontrollable need to write. Like if he didn't, his head would explode. His brain was working overtime to try and handle the information running through his mind, but he just couldn't stand there and do nothing. Isa grew fearful.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Riku turned on his heels, grabbed Isa's arm in a calculated manner, twisting his body to exact measurements. There was nothing fluid about it; he was a puppet to some other being. Isa gasped, trying to hold his ground, but Riku was either too strong, or had too much momentum to stop. Isa found himself on the ground. His own gun was pointed right between his eyes. He huffed angrily.

"Go ahead, shoot me."

Riku drew in a shallow breath as he felt a barrel of another gun touch the back of his head. Aqua stood behind him, glaring at Isa. "Put it down."

Riku realized what he was doing. He felt strange. He hadn't been in his body since he saw the tuxedoed man on the bus. His mind kept wandering. Kept thinking. It wouldn't stop, and when he was faced with doing something, his body shut down and was completely controlled by his subconscious.

Aqua pushed the metal killer harder into the back of Riku's head, "I said drop it."

Riku dropped the gun into Isa's hand. Isa stood up, pointing it right back at him. "I'm going to kill you for that."

Aqua frowned. People around them began to panic, and she knew they were phoning the police. She could hear sirens in the distance. Isa frowned. It was his time to show off. He rolled his eyes and took the gun from Aqua.

"Go," he said. "I'll take the heat for this."

Aqua didn't move. "You can't do that. Then I'll owe you."

Isa leaned dangerously close to her. Their lips almost brushed. "I look forward to cashing in that favor. Go, I can take care of myself."

Aqua grabbed Riku and dragged him away. She was angry. More at the fact that she had to show herself in public than the fact that Riku was falling apart for no apparent reason, and Isa had almost killed him. Police swarmed around the area, and they were shouting at Isa, who gave up without a fight. No one had even paid attention to them as they left.

Aqua pushed Riku into her car and climbed in. When she shut the door, she looked at him. "We need to talk."

* * *

Saix was sitting in his office, poring over files on his desk. The computer screens that were normally black were lit up with charts and mathematical formulas. They had graphs of stars and planets, and he was calculating trajectories of different objects at different speeds, and there was a digital image of a perpetual motion turning about. If you weren't an astronomer, you would have never been able to begin to understand what it was Saix was studying.

A soft knock at his door alerted him to the fact that he was still on this miserable little planet. He sighed heavily and stood up. He shuffled his papers away, and turned off all his computer screens save for his star holograms. He pressed a button under his desk and his door opened.

In came Marluxia, pink hair waving about like he was some kind of god. He looked like he had just had a really good day, but there was worry lurking underneath his eyes.

"Saix." Marluxia murmured. "I've been thinking."

"You seem to be doing that a lot." Saix said, becoming angry. "You've been neglecting your duties. I've had to clean up your messes, and quite frankly, I'm sick of it."

Marluxia clicked his tongue. "I have not been neglecting my duties, Saix. I have done everything you've asked of me. You just don't want to do the paperwork afterwards. You're just being lazy."

Saix jumped up and grabbed Marluxia by his collar. "You will not use that tone with me, do you understand?"

Marluxia smiled and pulled Saix's hands off him. "I'm sorry…_superior. _I was merely making an observation."

"You don't want to mess with me now." Saix growled.

"You called me, lapdog." Marluxia chided. "I've come. Now what do you want?"

Saix frowned and kept his cool. He wanted to kill Marluxia right then and there, but he couldn't do that. Xehanort would have been extremely displeased. He fixed his shirt, smoothed his hair down, and sat at his desk. "Xehanort wanted to talk to you personally, but he had decided to stay in Italy for a week." He glanced down. "He sends his apologies."

Marluxia frowned. "That's it?"

Saix shook his head slowly. "Of course not. I wouldn't have called you if that was it."

Marluxia clicked his teeth again. "Then what do you want?"

"You have a new victim." Saix cringed inside as he saw Marluxia's eyes light up. "He's the new CEO of Male INC. It's the internet dating website that was used as a front for Aqua."

"And?"

Saix folded his hands together. "Larxene hasn't reported to me yet about Aqua, but I do believe that this new CEO knows where she is. I want you to go find him and get any information you can. You may then…kill him."

Saix shuddered at that last bit, for he knew just how horribly Marluxia could kill someone. He was unfortunate enough to have been there during Xehanort's first interview. They had found Marluxia in some backwater town, hiding from the FBI. He was a confirmed serial killer, and he had been in the middle of a kill when they had found him.

Marluxia was disgusting, covered from head to toe in blood. He had ripped the poor woman open and was hanging her intestines in the surrounding trees. When they stopped him, he could barely string more than two or three words together. He was a mess, but Xehanort laughed off the carnage and gave Marluxia a job, despite the furious protests of Saix.

Now, however, Marluxia was heavily medicated so he wouldn't kill them all in their sleep. Saix still couldn't sleep soundly if he knew Marluxia had a night shift. Xehanort had asked him if he thought it was a good idea to allow Marluxia to go off his medication. Saix refused to let Xehanort to do something so wrong. Even if Xehanort could see the beauty in controlled chaos, Saix could not let Marluxia loose on the world without a way to protect himself.

Marluxia smiled awkwardly. "Okay then. I'll start tonight. Only because I know you can't sleep when I'm out there."

Saix didn't betray his true feelings to the monster that stood before him. "I want you to talk to Vexen before you go. Xehanort had asked him to give you something. I suggest you make haste."

"Ahh, Saix," Marluxia moaned. "Always staying professional."

Saix muttered something under his breath. Marluxia was the only one who ever would undermine his authority to the extent that he did. Only Axel would ever toe that line, but that's all he would do. Toe it. Never cross it.

Marluxia swept away and down the stairs to Vexen's lab. He passed by the observation glass. It was clean, and the room it looked into was empty. Vexen was standing in front of a tank. Inside was a lumpy sac, and Marluxia could see there was something moving inside of it. The water was an eerie green, and a machine was counting clicks and beeps. It sounded just like a hospital.

Marluxia instantly hated this room.

Vexen turned around. He looked forlorn. It was obvious that he hadn't slept in days. He absently scratched at his wrist.

"Vexen?"

Vexen smiled. "Hi, Marluxia. You're going to be the first to see this."

Marluxia was hesitant. Vexen usually didn't show anyone his experiments, but he felt slightly flattered that he would be able to see whatever it was that Vexen was working on. He came closer to the glass tank. Vexen was breathing on it, and his breath fogged up the glass.

"Saix said Xehanort has something for me." Marluxia muttered. "Something special?"

Vexen grinned. "Oh, yes, or course, but you should take a close look at the specimen."

Marluxia looked at the sac again. When the light hit it just right, he could see a tiny form moving about in the fleshy cocoon. Marluxia looked at it for a little bit longer. Then, a sudden excitement rose in his chest.

"Is that…?"

"Yes," Vexen said, grinning. "It is a human fetus. Fully developed…outside of the mother's body."

Marluxia clapped his hands together. "This is amazing, Vexen! Do I get to kill it?"

Vexen frowned. "No, I'm afraid not."

Marluxia frowned. "Then what does this have to do with me? I'm not interested unless I can kill it."

Vexen patted Marluxia on the shoulder. "My friend, you have much to learn in the art of science."

"I'm not interested in anything you have to show me now." Marluxia said. "You're boring me."

Vexen guided him to a cabinet. "You jump to conclusions too quickly, Marluxia. I'm trying to help you. You want kids, don't you?"

Marluxia erupted into laughter. "Now you're just mocking me, Vexen. You know damn well about my…inability to 'procreate' as you so wonderfully like to make fun of me for."

Vexen frowned and let Marluxia go. "I'm offended that you would think that I would mock my own art, Marluxia. Please, just shut your mouth."

Marluxia glared at Vexen with venom in his eyes. He didn't say anything as Vexen moved around his lab. He opened doors, closed them, and gathered supplies on a table in the middle of the room. Marluxia looked at the things on the table.

"What are they?"

Vexen smiled. "I was one of the first people Xehanort told about your lack of genitalia when he hired you. He told me to figure out a way to make it so you could have children."

Marluxia hummed.

"At first we were simply going to transfer another man's penis to you, but I found that to be a rather tiresome and impossible method…"

Marluxia whipped around. "You thought that sewing a dick between my legs would have made me normal?" He giggled. "You are sadly mistaken."

Vexen frowned. "No. No, I never thought that. But, I've developed a method by taking samples of your cells and forcing them through meiosis. I've created both a male and female version for this process that will guarantee that you will have a son and a daughter."

Marluxia grinned. "Don't lie to me Vexen. I don't think I could hold myself."

Vexen handed him two metal tubes. And even though they were supposed to serve the same function as a dick, they bore no resemblance. In fact, they looked more the handles for Mock-Keyblades than anything else. There was a small delivery sac at the end of each one. They looked sinister. Built for torture.

"Your sperm are within the device." Vexen explained. "They will be kept at the proper temperature until you use them. Also," He stepped up to the glass tank. The fetus moved around stiffly. "I've infused it with the virus."

"What?"

Vexen held up a hand. "It is not dangerous to your children, Marluxia. I've bred the virus to ignore the Organization's DNA. That includes children, grandchildren and so on. However, the cells are super metabolized. This fetus right here was only a cell age of four weeks a few days ago."

Marluxia smiled.

"As soon as you release your…seed." Vexen said distastefully. "The female will be pregnant in a few hours, and showing in a few days. In a few weeks, she would be ready to give birth, but she will not live afterwards."

Marluxia weighed the instruments in his hands. He was going to be able to have children. Two of them. His mind went into overdrive. But, he wasn't as stupid as everyone thought. And he could remember everything he had learned in all his health and sex education classes. "What kind of females do I choose?"

Vexen laughed, "I'm not the person to ask. Though, I would keep it to women who are ovulating, who look like they could be the mother of a monster's child. It doesn't really matter."

Marluxia laughed again. It sent chills up Vexen's spine, but he kept calm. The pink demon beside him was given one of the greatest gifts in the universe.

But he was going to sit on it for a while.

* * *

"Zexion?"

Xion stood outside Zexion's hotel door. She was dressed in a light sundress, and she had a cute set of sunglasses on her head. She wanted to go with Zexion to see what he was going to do. She still felt afraid to be alone after what Pete had done to her. But, she also didn't like Zexion too much.

"Zexion!"

Zexion opened his eyes. He was still lying in bed. His head hurt. He rolled on his side and groaned. Xion wasn't being a very good guest. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It read early morning, but he still felt like he had lost five hours of his day.

"Damn jet lag," Zexion muttered to himself.

He rolled out of bed and cracked the door to his room open. Xion was right there, smiling when she could see him. Zexion cringed inside as he was instantly reminded of Kairi. The sex with the stewardess the night before wasn't very good. He had to finish by himself because she was too god damn loud.

And now, those same feelings resurfaced and he closed the door without a word. He undressed and stepped into the shower. The water was hot, burning his skin, but he felt like he had to punish himself before he could indulge in the human's guiltiest pleasure.

Kairi floated through his mind, much to his distain as he selfishly stroked his frustrations away. The water was running for a while, and on the cusp of his orgasm, he cried out loud, completely hating everything he had just done to make those fantasies go away.

He shut the water off and dried his hair and left the room after dressing. He carried a briefcase with him, and refused to look at Xion. They got in a cab together, and Zexion directed the driver to a nearby private airport.

The palms trees all waved happily, giving off that air of vacation and carefree play. Xion kept looking at Zexion, wishing he would look at her. Of all things she had to do during her first days of her new life, she had to sit in silence with someone who couldn't even look at her. She kept asking him questions, possibly coaxing him into talking to her, but still he sat. Silent, and uncaring.

As the driver pulled to a stop, Zexion hopped out of the car and opened his briefcase. Xion could see dozens of vials and hypodermic needles. Zexion pulled out a lab coat and put it on hastily. He fastened a badge to his breast pocket and placed a pair of smart looking glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"You are not coming with me," he said flatly.

Xion opened the door and stepped out. "Like hell I'm not. I was paired up with you. What would it look like if you just abandoned me?"

"I don't really care," Zexion answered. He still avoided eye contact. "I'm doing official business. You're just staying with me because you'll get in the way. Go back to hotel, go play on the beach. I don't care. You're not coming with me."

Xion glared at Zexion, but sat back in the car anyway. Zexion gave the cab driver a wad of money. "Stay with her. This should cover your fees for the next couple of days. I have more if need be." He looked over his spectacles. "If you do anything to her because I've given you so much money, be rest assured that you will die with your guts spilling from your mouth. I do not joke when it comes to my partners. Do you understand?"

The cab driver, tough intimidated, nodded quickly and drove off. Zexion spun around, picked up his briefcase and stepped onto the small plane. He sat in a seat and looked out the window. He was off to work, and was forcibly reminded of just how much of a slave to society he really was.

The islands that made up the archipelago that was the state of Hawaii were all beautiful. White sand, lush forests of tropical plants, and a staggering amount of under populated villages. Zexion flew to the nearby island of Kaho'olawe, right off the coast of Maui. He landed on a tattered dirt road, where some locals were making there way up a steep hill. Zexion hurried up the hill after them, and realized that he was very unfit for this kind of terrain.

When he caught up with them, they looked rather shocked to see someone dressed as nicely as he was. They looked at each other. Zexion smoothed his lab coat and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"Excuse me," he huffed. "But, I'm a doctor, and I was wondering if you have any people who may be sick in your village."

Zexion hoped they could understand him, because he couldn't be bothered with trying to find someone who could translate. It would be a waste of his time. He just wanted to get in and get out.

"Oh, a doctor," sighed one of the locals. "Thank goodness."

They led him to their village. It was small, nestled between the high rising rocks that reached up and were covered in dense tropical trees. Zexion was sweating profusely, and had stripped down to a white t-shirt. His glasses kept sliding off his face, so he folded them and put them in his briefcase.

"We've been hoping a doctor would come," one of the locals explained. "We sent for help to the mainland a few days ago. We thought they weren't going to send anyone."

"What's wrong?" Zexion asked.

"There are a few of our women who are pregnant, and they've been having horrible pains and morning sickness."

"How far along?"

"Well, one is only a few weeks. Two are a little less than three months. And one is almost there." The local said. "We were hoping that we would have a doctor to help with the delivery."

Zexion frowned. "I will tend to them all. As soon as I have had the chance to refresh myself, I will examine them.

"How are you going to help them?"

"I will be giving them a powerful concentrated nutrient." Zexion wiped his forehead. "I will need to draw blood to expose them to the medicine, and they should be fine if all goes well."

The locals looked relieved, and Zexion did not feel any sympathy for them, since he knew he was going to end up killing one of the women. He needed a control group, and he was willing to do anything to achieve Xehanort's goal. The two youngest members of the village came forward. They were so malnourished, that their stomachs poked out even though they were only a few weeks pregnant. They looked too young to have fully considered starting a family.

"I'll see you first," Zexion said. He gratefully accepted a drink given to him.

The young girl looked willowy. She seemed sad, and depressed. He had given her a full physical. She seemed to be healthy enough to carry a child, and was really only lacking in nutrition. He smiled to himself as he pulled the first vial from his briefcase. He drew her blood, mixed it with the Virus solution, and injected it back in.

The girl shuddered and left. She claimed to be tired all of a sudden, but she felt better. The second girl came up, and Zexion just injected the Virus solution into her arm. He checked the other two women and left promptly. He had his control, he had three variables. The perfect science experiment had begun.

The initial Virus tests.

He could barely control his excitement. He was going to return in a week, just to see how well the women were handling being exposed to the pathogen. If everything was in order, the control would have died before he returned, and the variables should still be alive, but suffering. It was going to be a long week.

The plane was still waiting for him. By the time he reached the Mainland, night had fallen, and the ocean was a spectacular blue, sparkling from the bleach white sand underneath. Zexion pulled out a notebook and scribbled notes down. His infatuation with the ocean was going to be appeased.

The next week would be the perfect time to start the beginnings of ocean exploration. He leaned back in his seat, completely content with himself. He had to begin this assignment's file when he returned to the hotel, but not before a nice shower and hopefully a better fuck than last time.

He closed his eyes. Today was a good day.

* * *

As the sun was setting in Hawaii, it was just rising in Italy. Xehanort had woken Xaldin up at the crack of dawn, much to the displeasure of the latter.

"It's too early, sir," Xaldin croaked. He hid his head under his pillow.

"But, Xaldin, you must experience Italy with me." Xehanort said. He was fully clothed and looked exactly like an American tourist. "We need to taste their exquisite wines."

Xaldin looked at him incredulously. "You look ridiculous."

Xehanort frowned. "Well, I need to taste the countryside. You have to come with me. Come on, I'm asking you to be company, not a bodyguard. Just for today. Then you can be grumpy again."

Xaldin sat up. "Okay, so long as I don't have to dress like an idiot."

Xehanort laughed. "Thata boy."

Xaldin dressed quickly after showering. He met Xehanort downstairs. He had ditched his Organization robes for a classy dress shirt. If he was going to be dragged to a wine tasting, he was going to look sharp. He looked around the empty lobby. The clerk that had checked them in the night before sat at his desk, snoring softly. He grunted loudly, and the clerk jumped up.

"Oh, sorry," He said with a heavy Italian accent. "You checking out, yes?"

Xaldin leaned on the counter. "Sorry, no. We wish to extend our stay for a week. I hope this will cover it." He dropped a wad of Euros on the counter. "We would like to reserve the entire Inn if you don't mind."

The clerk sputtered. He didn't understand entirely what the large side-burned bodyguard was saying, but he understood that he wanted the whole place, and he put money on the counter. He nodded violently.

"_Grazie." _Xehanort said happily.

Xaldin left the Inn after checking all the rooms and closing the door behind. Xehanort was already halfway up the little alleyway that led to the main road. Xaldin huffed and hurried after him. The native Italian people moved out of his way. They had never seen a man so large and muscular. And the fact that Xaldin refused to smile made them more nervous.

"Sir, I don't think we should be waltzing around Italy right now."

Xehanort turned down another road, looking at a map. "Ah, Xaldin, you worry far too much, my friend. We are supposed to be enjoying ourselves." He stopped in front of a small shop. "Oh, Xaldin! Look at this!"

Xaldin looked in the window. On display was a long coat. Completely white with black markings. It was magnificent. He frowned. "We don't have the money to waste, Xehanort."

"Nonsense." He entered the store.

Xaldin followed him, knowing that he would do nothing to stop him. Xehanort helped himself to the coat. The clerk came out and helped Xehanort. He tailored the smooth Italian leather to his form.

"Wonderful." Xehanort said. "I'll take it."

The clerk grinned as if all his worries would melt away. He had a customer, and that was exceedingly rare these days, especially in this economy. He rang Xehanort up with fervor.

Xaldin nudged Xehanort. "We have no money, Xehanort. We spent it all on the wine for the entire pub last night. And the hotel money is gone."

"Oh, shoot."

"You had to pick the most expensive wine." Xaldin said. "Ten grand a bottle. Ten bottles."

Xehanort looked at him. "Eh, throw it on the American Express."

Xaldin frowned and handed the clerk the plastic card. "You seriously need to reign in your spending habits."

Xehanort smiled slyly. "Well, you know what they say. Gods don't pay."

Xaldin sighed and shot the clerk in the face. "I hope you don't decide to go on another spending spree anytime soon."

"Why not."

Xaldin looked at his gun. "I'm almost out of bullets."

"You will be rewarded, my friend." Xehanort said as he folded his coat and stowed it in a box. "I love Italy!"

Xehanort laughed again, but his phone rang, and the air in the room changed from happiness to strict business. He flipped his phone open. "Hello?"

"It's eight."

"Ah, Axel!" Xehanort cried. "How goes it?"

"It's going good." Axel said. There was din in the background. "You remember what you wanted me to look for?"

"Did you find it?"

"Well no, but I think you might be interested in this little tidbit of information I found."

Xehanort lit up. "What?"

"The Heartless are moving their headquarters from Manhattan to Queens." Axel said. "They are planning to use public transportation. I think they're going to move tomorrow."

"Excellent," Xehanort said. "How did you come across this?"

Axel was quiet for a while. "Let's just say I know how to make the ladies scream."

Xehanort blushed. "Oh, how naughty."

Xaldin was silent. He watched Xehanort carefully. He sorely missed the strictly business side of his boss. Xehanort was enjoying a mini vacation, and he was merely having fun. Living for as long as he had, he realized somewhere in the early eighties that he had to live everyday like it was his last.

"I suppose we are leaving now?"

Xehanort put his phone away. "Yes. Unfortunately, I must attend to my duties in the States. But, not before one more stop. Something you might like."

Xaldin grunted and hoped in a cab that Xehanort had hailed. He kept his eyes closed until the cab came to a stop. He had learned fairly early in his criminal career that Xehanort liked to talk. It didn't even matter if there was anyone listening to him. Xaldin didn't even pay attention unless there was that tone that meant he was being serious. It was becoming a rarer occurrence, but Xaldin always loved it when he got pissed.

Xehanort handed him a blindfold. "Put this on."

"Sir—"

"I don't want to hear it, Xaldin." Xehanort said. "You're not leaving the country until you put this on."

Xaldin groaned as he indulged Xehanort. Xehanort took his massive arm and dragged him down what felt like a dirt road. He was getting more pissed off until Xehanort stopped him.

"Go ahead, take it off."

Xaldin sighed and pulled the cloth from his eyes. Before him, in a huge hanger, sat a sleek white Boeing 747. The wings were a deep black, and the Roman numeral III was printed in the tail. It was beautiful.

"For you," Xehanort said. "Happy birthday."

Xaldin fluttered inside. Xehanort had gotten him a plane. As a birthday present. And it wasn't even his birthday. He resisted the urge to crack a smile, but he gave a grunt of assent. Xehanort clapped his hands.

"Excellent. Let's fire her up!" Xehanort climbed up the steps of the plane. "Back to New York!"

* * *

**So...yeah. Let's go eat! Hardy har.**

****NEWSFLASH** I got Google Earth. It's fucking fantastic. If you don't have it, get it. It helped me loads to make sure stuff was geogrphically correct, though I'm sure I've butchered New York City something aweful.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	18. Consider It a Business Meeting

**Hi, everyone! DeadShut here. Sorry about the delay...again. I will admit, some of the time spent was procrastination, but a lot of it was dedicated to two other things:**

1. Working on other projects. I need to spend SOME time on other stories that I like to write about, such as my upcoming crime-story, _Assets and Liabilities_, my experimental/tragedy story in which the dialogue is mostly poetry, _Hayes_, my analysis on villains in stories and why we are attracted to them, and another FanFic called _The Portraits of Princess Peach_, which is coming soon. I've been busy. 

**2. Brainstorming on how to make things in THIS story really, really bad. Not "bad" as in "this sucks", but "bad" as in "what more can possibly happen to create as much destruction for the people in this story?". THAT kind of bad. **

**Again, I apologize. But enjoy.**

**Haji here. Another lovely chapter by DeadShut. *claps* I shall be diligently working on the next chapter, but I'm telling you all right now that it will not be released for at least two weeks. Unless I get more time to type in my horrifying schedule for thr new year, it will take two weeks. But, be rest assured, you will be rewarded for your patience. I think it's time you know what's been happening to Demyx.**

* * *

When Ienzo had inherited all of poor old Terra's D.C. empire, he learned that he had come into the possession of many bars and pubs throughout the nation's capital. His favorite was by far the Lucky Charm, which resembled an old Irish drinking pub; although most of the interior was stone, banners and streamers of dark shades of green hung from the ceilings. Humongous pitchers of beer were sold to customers, and given free to "associates". Furthermore, to make it even better, the Lucky Charm was almost always completely empty, which meant Ienzo could drink and think in peace.

Not today, however. Today, the bar was full of strangers, all running in as if something incredibly entertaining was going on inside.

Shocked and a bit pissed, Ienzo pushed passed the crowd and into the bar.

He asked the barmaid, a cute little thing named Wendy who Ienzo had fucked maybe six times since he came here, "What the hell is going on? Who the fuck are all these people?"

Wendy, white-faced, pointed up to the big screen TV that was inside the Lucky Charm. Frowning, Ienzo looked up. On the screen was a black-and-red heart with a "X" through it.

"Oh, shit…" whispered Ienzo, feeling his stomach drop and his heart race.

A voice on the television said:

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen of the United States of America. For years, now, we of the Heartless have desperately tried to warn you not to cross the line. For years, now, all we've asked for is respect. And, for years now, we have gotten it. Unfortunately for us all, many have been disrespecting the Heartless, and challenging our motives and operations. This makes working with you, America, incredibly difficult. In an age where celebrities come and go, new fads live and die, you have all made the horrendous mistake of underestimating us. You _do not_ challenge the Heartless. We are not old 'news', we are not 'dead'; in fact, we are very much alive. Today, people of America, will be the day we show you how alive we are. Today, people of America, you will witness our might and be reminded of who you should always respect. May the Heartless live forever, even when this patriotic empire has been for long in ruins."

Incredibly, the Heartless-symbol on the screen turned into an episode of _Spongebob Squarepants_. Two fishy pilots had panicky expressions on their faces.

"We're falling right out of the sky!" screamed one of the pilots.

"We'll have to drop the load!" replied the other.

The entire world shook.

"Holy _fuck_!" shrieked Ienzo, falling to the solid floor as everything trembled. The people in the Lucky Charm screamed. Glass bottles of liquor and other alcohol fell from shelves and shattered on the ground in foamy sprays. The flat-screen TV fell from its place high on the wall and broke into pieces of plastic. Dust from the ceiling came down like an apocalyptic mist.

Then, everything was still.

Ienzo collected himself, and saw that others in the tavern were doing the same. Coughing, spluttering, and hysterical crying filled the air, reminding Ienzo of his childhood spent in the hospital where everyone was either dying, depressed, or both.

A man ran into the tavern, a deep gash on his forehead.

"The Monument!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. Everyone in the bar listened to him, all deathly quiet, their blood running cold. "The Washington Monument's been bombed! The _Washington Monument_!"

Some women screamed, some men shouted, people were crying even more now, but Ienzo was like a rock. He straightened his shirt, brushed the dust off of him, and marched outside.

The sky was red not with sunlight but with fire. In the distance, he could vaguely see the Washington Monument behind humongous plumes of smoke, debris and fire. People were now filling the streets, one of whom kept repeating, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…".

Chunks of the monument fell into the pool below.

* * *

Cloud and Namine were sitting in the Laundromat, arms around each other, watching as the Monument crumbled on the television in the corner of the building. Although they were both incredibly disturbed, Namine was also suddenly terrified, thinking about how this world would be dangerous to raise a child in.

She was pregnant. She hadn't told Cloud.

And now she was upset.

* * *

People in Manhattan crowded the streets as television displays inside stores broadcasted footage of the terrible bombing in D.C. Aqua and Riku pulled over and joined them.

"Oh my God," Aqua whispered.

A man around her age, who had been checking her out from behind, stepped forward and said sadly, "Yeah. It was the Heartless. Those hacker-guys. Man, they've really gone too far, huh?"

Aqua ignored him, grabbed Riku by the shoulder, and made him watch the crumbling obelisk. Riku did not want to watch; he felt terrible, horrified. This was like a second 9/11, which he _had_ been around to see…as a child. The beautiful dedication made for the Founding Father was now burning to the ground, a well-known icon being destroyed by men with selfish and cruel intentions.

"_This_," snarled Aqua. "Is why we need your help."

"Let me go," Riku growled menacingly, inhumanely.

She blinked, surprised, and did just that. Aqua was a strong woman, but she had never heard such malice in a voice in her entire life…and she had dealt with some extraordinarily _bad_ people before, had she not?

Riku turned to face her, and she saw that he was not just Riku anymore; he was something else, something _more_. The boy's eyes had gone bloodshot, and veins in his forehead pulsed and quivered like live wires. Riku was breathing heavily through his nose, tiny sprays of nose hair shooting from each nostril with the intensity of each exhale…He was a monster.

"I will most certainly _not_ help you," he said, taking a step forward. Aqua took a step back. "I'm sick of being your pawn, woman, and I refuse to partake in this game any longer. I have more important matters to tend to."

"More…_what_?" Aqua shrieked. "Fighting the Heartless has been the only thing you've ever cared about! Damn it, Riku!"

Riku pushed past her and said:

"The door to the Kingdom is open. I've no time for the petty trivialities of man."

* * *

Roxas took the elevator down after a good night's sleep. Normally when he woke up, he would feel a bit under the weather with painful crusts lining his eyes and dried drool staining his cheeks…but this morning he felt better than ever. He walked through the lounge in his black-and-white pajamas happily, only slightly peeved at how cold the floor was underneath his bare feet. He shuffled into the kitchen and saw Axel raiding the fridge, as fucking always.  
"Good morning, cockface," said Roxas, joining his friend in the quest to gorge himself.

"Morning," said Axel, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "The Washington Monument fell today. The Heartless did it."

"Whatever. Shit happens."

"Ha! In-fucking-deed. You want some bourbon?"

"It's eleven o'clock in the fucking morning."

"Who cares?"

"Ah, good point. But I hate whiskey, man…makes my asshole bleed."

"Your asshole bleeds only because you get fucked by big burly black men on a nightly basis."

"Shut up and pour me a shot of vodka."

Axel laughed mockingly; Roxas smacked him in the back of the head before entering the wonderfully-colorful dining room. Only Vexen sat in there, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

Roxas sat across the table from him and asked, "What's new, Vexen? How's the Virus coming along?"

Vexen glared over his newspaper and said, "The Virus should be the least of _your_ concerns, you Rox-ass."

"Love ya', too. Did you hear about the Washington Monument?"

"Of course," said Vexen, and pointed at the newspaper. "Almost all popular websites on the internet are temporarily closed, now, as a precaution. Fucking Heartless…"

"Yeah, because young geniuses need their YouTube, I'm guessing."

"You should stop hanging around Axel."

Roxas snorted.

"I remember when you were such a _happy_ boy, Roxas."

"I hate you."

Vexen laughed.

"So, what else are you up to?" asked Roxas.

"Not much. Finished up the shield to get my managers off my ass."

"That's badass. You have it on you?"

Smiling coolly, Vexen raised his left hand to show it was covered in metal crafted into the shape of a glove, painted blue. The gauntlet reflected the colors of the room, making it shine angelically.

"Cool," said Roxas admiringly, as Xigbar came in with a tray of various breakfast foods. Toast, potatoes, eggs, and pancakes were placed upon the long wooden table.

"_Bon appetit_," said Xigbar, enjoying a smile for a brief second and a half before it quickly faded when he turned and saw Axel entering the room with a bottle of bourbon whiskey.

The pyromaniac sang happily, "_As I was goin' over the far-famed Kerry mountains, I met with Captain Farrell and his money he was countin'. I first produced me pistol and I then produced me rapier, saying, "stand and deliver, for you are the bold deceiver!". Musha rig um du rum da…Whack fol the daddy-O…Whack fol the daddy-O! There's whiskey in the jar_!"

"Son. Of. A. Bitch," growled Xigbar. "You're fucking drunk, aren't you?"

"Drunk? How offensive, Xiggy. I prefer the term 'soberly-challenged'."

"You'll be challenged, alright, when you have the toe of my boot up your asshole. Put the Jack Daniel's away and have some fucking flapjacks."

Axel sat, and the four men ate in silence for a while. Roxas loved Xigbar's cooking, and it was a perfect way to wake up from a good night's rest. Not for the first time was he kicking back and enjoying his life as Member XIII, which he did quite frequently nowadays. His depression seemed to finally be cured, and he had grown stronger. Vexen had been right; he was not a happy-go-lucky-kid anymore…he was an asset to the Organization.

And he fucking loved it.

Through a mouthful of potatoes, Axel said, "So I'm guessing the Heartless have finally gone too far."

Vexen mused, "Not as far as the government, actually. This is the same mistake they made on 9/11. Terrorists attack. Lives lost. We grow paranoid. Want to know what happens when we grow paranoid? The terrorists win." He took a sip of coffee before proceeding, "And this is no Middle-Eastern operation. The Heartless are an American gang. So if you thought that cautions were high before, you'll be blown away by what's to come. Oh say, can you see, by the dawn's early light? What so proudly we've hailed, until someone does something irrevocably stupid?"

"But what does it matter?" inquired Xigbar. "How long will it be before America collapses under the might of the Virus?"

Vexen gave an exasperated look.

"We still have a while," said the intellect. "That is, to say, if this Virus doesn't kill us in the process of weaponizing it. The fetus from the mother of Roxas' fellow Keyblade-warrior is not developing as quickly as I had anticipated. Much problem with the eyes."

"Eyes?"

"Mhmm. Here, take a look at my cell phone. I took some pictures of the fetus' current form. Gentlemen…say hello to Dusk."

He passed the phone to Axel, who muttered, "Thanks, dickhole, I've lost my appetite"; the phone went to Xigbar, who also turned a trifle green before handing it to Roxas.

The being in the picture was horrid. Clawed fingers on tiny hands scratched at the monstrosity's face. In the place of a normal mouth there were two jagged lips that appeared to be made of metal.

When he could, Roxas asked, "W-what the fuck is wrong with its mouth?"

"_His_ mouth. Jesus, Roxas, show our child some respect. Anyways, the cells that make up the fetus' mouth have been replaced by the programming of the Virus…giving it a metallic look."

"It looks like a zipper," said Axel his voice a croak. He took a swig of the Jack Daniel's.

"Yes. The baby will be rather grotesque when it arrives, but it will also be the most beautiful thing to ever exist in this world. Once out of the first stages of development, it will grow into an adult rather quickly and stay that way eternally. Dusk will be a valuable servant, and when the children Zexion has infected come to serve us, along with Marluxia's future, er, _grandchildren_, we will have a small army at our fingertips."

"Marluxia's grandchildren?" repeated Xigbar.

"I gave him the ability to procreate," said Vexen flatly.

"My God, what have we done?" retorted Axel before taking a rather large swig of whiskey. Vexen ignored him.

"But the problems we may encounter once our minions have arrived will include…now, how do I put this delicately? Er, the problems we may encounter after Dusk and the others have grown will mostly include literally _containing_ the Virus. Right now, things look good; the artificial genes the Virus creates seem to recognize the DNA of Organization-members and self-destruct painlessly whenever it reaches contact. But, like in many computer programs, there is the possibility of hidden errors. If I have missed the coding of this Virus by the _smallest_ integer or variable, the results could be…catastrophic."

"Meaning?" asked Xigbar.

"I would die," Vexen said simply. "The effects of the Virus would not be contained within the infants, and since I have not yet coded the responsive languages needed to make Dusk and company serve us, the Virus could go haywire while contagious and most probably kill not only us, but the entire human race."

They sat in silence, all their minds racing furiously with the thoughts of this risk. Roxas felt queasy now. The zipper-mouthed child…the Thirteen Angels of the Apocalypse…well, fourteen counting Xion, sort of…what if something went screwy? Having close encounters with death, he could say with no hesitation that he had no desire to die. Especially following a humongous disappointment if the Virus were to fail.

"That kind of scares me," croaked Roxas.

Although Roxas expected to be comforted, Vexen merely spoke two words:  
"Me, too."

* * *

Xehanort strolled into the cockpit of the Boeing 747, which Xaldin had eagerly named _Lindworm_ (what he had always wanted to christen the aircraft of his dreams), and found the inky-haired pilot frowning as he flew over what Xehanort thought was the Atlantic Ocean.

"What's wrong?" said Xehanort, surprised. "Do you not like your new plane?"

"What?" said Xaldin. "Oh…no, sir! This is the greatest gift I have ever received in my entire life. It's just…I listened to some broadcast back in the U.S., and apparently the Heartless have just destroyed the Washington Monument."

"They _what_? The destroyed the _Washington Monument_? Did I just hear you correctly, Xaldin?"

"Yes, sir. This will make landing in America near-impossible."

"Fuck! Well, what do we do? Our plane isn't small enough to land anywhere unnoticed. On the contrary; this sky-dragon of yours is a gargantuan."

"It's fine, sir, I have it all taken care of. I made route for Hawaii, so we're actually flying over the _Pacific_ right now."

"Hawaii is still in America, Xaldin," growled Xehanort impatiently through grit teeth.

"I know, I know. But unlike the main continent of the United States, Hawaii is a string of islands with only _four_ Air Force bases on it, which means the risk of us being shot down is flimsy. Furthermore, Zexion just arranged a landing for us at a smaller airport, where you're to be a multimillionaire entrepreneur who visited Italy for a business trip and I'm to be your personal pilot. We'll be spending time with Zexion and Xion for a couple days, so it seems."

"Hmph," Xehanort pouted. "This is incredibly sidetracking, bewildering, and quite a pain in the rear-end. I do believe a message to the leader of the Heartless is in order. I shall call Zexion."

"Zexion?" said Xaldin, surprised. "Why him?"

"Zexion was in the Heartless for a brief period of time before he joined our ranks. He was very close to their leader. I thought you knew that."

"Zexion and I aren't very buddy-buddy."

"Ah, right. Well, anyways, I shall see you later. Let's hope you can land this thing properly."

"Nothing can stop a lindworm, sir. Especially not MY _Lindworm_."

Xehanort laughed, return the his chosen seat aboard the commercial plane, called Zexion, and prepared his webcam.

* * *

Ienzo walked into the Washington National Cathedral, which was surprisingly deserted after such a catastrophic terrorist attack on America. The criminal assumed it was because everyone was fleeing the city. There were no lights on; just the sun shining through the stained-glass windows. This was a pretty big place…much bigger than most churches back in good ol' New York. If anybody from there had seen him in a church, they would have raised their eyebrows. He didn't care anymore. He was done.

If the Heartless were taking over, any of their enemies would be royally fucked, to say the least. Aqua was a _humongous_ thorn in the Heartless' side, and now that Ienzo was in charge of the D.C.-segment of her empire, his life was in more danger than anyone else's around. He wondered if this is how Terra felt when _he_ had been so close to death.

_Funny_, he thought. _How all of Aqua's men get knee-deep in shit. How the tables have turned…_

That scared him into coming here. If there was a God, and there was an afterlife, he was, again, royally fucked. To be murdered by a bunch of fucking computer geeks and then getting ass-raped by demons in Hell for eternity was definitely a lose-lose scenario. And if he were to die on the spot, the Big Guy in the Sky would have no problem with sending him to the ol' fiery pit of eternal damnation.

The priest was gone, too. Ienzo was totally alone. Alone, and in the most frightening position he had ever been stuck in in his life.

Aqua tried to call him. He threw his phone into the sewers as he walked here. He was done. He wanted no more association with her or anyone else from this horrible existence as a criminal…even though it was what he had loved most, always.

There was a cross against one of the stone walls, and good old Jeebuz was mounted upon it like a bizarre scarecrow. Ienzo sank to his knees.

"Dear, Father," he said, choking on sobs. "Please forgive me. I know I have sinned. There is no excuse for what I have done to people…Terra…Leon…those guys never did anything to me. Before I was just small-time…" He fired up. "It was _Aqua_, Lord! Aqua's the mastermind! She promised me money and power…how could I resist? _She's_ the real killer…not me!"

In the large cathedral, the mocking laughter echoed all around Ienzo. The criminal stood up, whipping out his pistol from his back pocket.

"Who is there?" he cried. His mind answered for him: _Lucifer. Him. The Fallen Angel. _He felt hot tears of fear spring to his eyes.

"Put the gun down, Ienzo, you look like a damn fool," taunted the voice. A young man stepped into the colorful beams of light that shone down onto the stone floor from the holy stained glass. The young man was peculiar-looking. Maybe around eighteen years-old, but had the eyes of a man who had seen all the world's secrets and wonders, yet was left in bitter disappointment. His face was heavily scarred, and patched with strips of shining metal. Black burns surrounded these strips. All in all, the man was grotesque.

"W-who are you?" demanded Ienzo, raising his weapon.

The young man smiled, showing glittering gold teeth. He pulled out his own pistol with a metallic hand.

"You sound surprised to see me," said the man. "Why is that? Were you _not_ coming here to repent, because you feared for your life? Were you _not_ fearing for your life because the Heartless are going to be in control of all that is underground soon?"

"You're a Heartless?" whispered Ienzo. "_You_?"

"Me. You sound surprised."

"You're…just a kid."

"Hey, fuck you. So are you. Does age really matter in times like these? Not really. Sides do, however. And to think I was just a kid about to go into his senior year of high school just a couple weeks ago…"

Ienzo fired. The bang of the gun echoed like the Heartless' laughter earlier. He saw the disgusting metal-face jump out of the light of the stained glass and into the cover of darkness.

Silence.

Sweat racing down the side of his face, Ienzo traced his gun back and forth at the darkness in front of him. His hand was shaking violently as he gripped his pistol.

_Is this really happening to me?_ he thought. It was so bizarre, so frightening, that this experience almost felt like a dream. His teeth chattered.

No banging retort came…only the low sound of something rolling on the stone floor. To Ienzo's surprise, out of the darkness came a black bowling ball. It slowly rolled over to him and hit his toe. He stared down at it, confused.

There was a colossal explosion. Ienzo got one last look at the ball blowing into millions of tiny pieces before a wave of hot air sent him backwards and painfully onto the floor. He didn't make a noise; he _couldn't_. The shock of what had just happened was still shooting through his mind like a plug being covered in battery acid.

The metal-face came out of the darkness, laughing in that taunting tone yet again. Ienzo realized with a jolt that he had dropped his gun when the bowling ball exploded.

"That was cool, wasn't it?" said Metal-Face. "Y'know, I made that thing myself. Heartless technology kicks ass, wouldn't you know…those fuckers saved my life."

"Please," begged Ienzo. "Please don't kill me."

"What?" Metal-Face mocked. "You don't want to die in a church? It's the house of God, man! You're sure to get a ticket to Heaven now!"

"No, no, no," begged Ienzo. "Please, man, please…let's think this through…"

"My boss is having a meeting with your boss as we speak. She'll be doing a lot of thinking today, after what he does to her. Why should I give _you_, a fucking mindless drone, time to think?"

Ienzo had never been shot before, but had found that getting a bullet to the stomach by no means tickled. He squealed like a little girl, grabbing at the hole in his torso. Metal-Face raised the pistol again, but stopped when the sounds of police sirens rang from outside. Through the stained glass were flashes of blue and red.

"Shit. You're fucking lucky," said Metal-Face.

Ienzo laughed and said, "I knew it; you're just a fucking kid. Shitty face or not, that's all you are."

"Fuck you, you worthless piece of shit. Do you know who I am?"

"A circus freak?"

That pissed him off, and Ienzo knew it. "Really amusing, but no; I'm Pete McLean."

Ienzo saw the pistol rise again, and quickly scrambled up towards the monument to Christ on the wall before him. The retort came shortly after the impact of the bullet hit him in the back of the head, and Ienzo fell face-first. Pete hurried out.

When the cops found the body later, they discovered it reaching for the deity hanging on the wall.

* * *

Although Club Heartless had been near-destroyed by the pink-haired monster, Diz and his closest "friends", as he called them, still used the building as a home base. Computers were now set up at the bar, with his men sitting at them and looking up the response to the immense amount of damage they had done to the United States today.

"'ey, Diz!" cried Greg Coy, a fat and obnoxious yet brilliant computer hacker Diz had employed. "They shut down YouTube! Can ye' believe that shit!"

Diz smiled and nodded before taking a sip from his glass mug of beer. Yes, he knew all about the major sites being closed down…which, of course, would upset the majority of the population here in America, which would then cause the whole system to spiral into an eternal chaos. Oh, yes, the Heartless had made history today, and Diz was rather proud.

The doors to the club opened and in came Pete McLean, face grotesque and metallic, mechanical eyeball twitching maniacally, golden teeth on the right side of his mouth bared and sharp. Many of Diz's men gasped in shock at the sight of this monstrosity, with the exception of Coy, who had helped operate on the boy.

"Hello, sir," said Pete to Diz, taking a seat on the booth opposite of his lifesaver. "Ienzo is dead. I had to haul ass outta there, though, and evade the police, which explains my delay."

Diz dismissed the apology with a warm smile and a wave of the hand.

"No matter, Petey," said Diz kindly.

"Sir!" cried Chris Moloch, one of the men on the computers at the bar. Moloch was a dark-haired, pale youth with a genius mind in cinematography, and Diz always made sure to have him in charge of the cameras in whatever building he entered. "She's here! She's coming down the street!"

"Ah, our guest," Diz hummed. "Pete, go to the bathroom in the back and change into a suit, for Christ's sake. You're a bloody mess."

Pete obeyed and disappeared for a minute or two before reappearing wearing an emerald-green suit complete with black tie and white undershirt. He looked rather impressive.

The doors to Club Heartless opened again, and in came a tall woman with blue dye in her hair, accompanied by two large cronies that towered over the tech-savvy Heartless.

"You sonofabitch," hissed Aqua.

Diz beamed.

"You think this is funny?" she demanded. "You truly, in all honesty, believe this is a joke? This is no laughing matter, Diz. You've really crossed the line."

"Oh, hush, Aqua," said Diz darkly. "This day has been coming for years, you and I both know it. It was only a matter of time before one of our little…groups…claimed dominance, and you've been delaying for too long. I had your little pet, Ienzo, killed just to prove that it is over. We are on top now."

"_Blowing up the Washington Monument_?" shrieked Aqua. "That is crossing the line, Diz, crossing it by a mile! You're bringing every underground-worker in Manhattan into a war zone! You must know that!"

"I do. And it's been coming for the longest time, Aqua. You must know THAT! Our alliance, as feeble and decaying as it was, has finally come to an end…"

"Sir," interrupted Coy. "We're getting a video call from someone."

"Leave it," said Diz, eyes not leaving Aqua's face.

"I'll try…damn, this guy's pretty good…you think it's the FBI?"

"Impossible," said Diz. "Our software is track-proof. In 2006 the FBI finally got email…you think they're computer wizards?"

"_Someone_ is breaking through our firewalls."

"Fuck it, I don't care." Diz continued to Aqua, "After today, people will understand, Aqua, and you'd be wise to follow them in this understanding. Today was just the introduction to the lesson America will be learning…that the _Heartless rule all_!"  
"Ah ha…ha…_ha_," mocked a cold voice from the bar.

Diz turned his head. Aqua did the same. On Coy's computer was a man in a ridiculous-looking lab coat, a man with an incredible tan and eyes that seemed to pierce through the old Heartless' soul…if he even had one.

"Who are you?" demanded Diz instantly, standing up. Pete followed him closely, loyal as a dog.

"We might as well get to know each other on a first-name basis, Diz," said the stranger coolly. "My name is Xehanort. I am many things. To the world, I am a nobody. To you, I am a nightmare. I have many operations I am working tirelessly over, and your men attacking my own is starting to become problematic. Furthermore, you attacking American people _that I will need_ is also starting to become a bit of a nuisance, as well."

"Fuck you," growled Diz. "What do you want? What is this?"

Xehanort laughed. "Let's consider it a business meeting. I can make your life very difficult. I employ men who could find you. I employ men who could open you up while keeping you alive, and very much conscious. I employ men who would gladly light you on fire, douse you out, and continue on to light you on fire again until you died from the unbearable pain. I employ men who would without hesitation mutilate you while keeping you alive, and using your body parts to fertilize soil for their flowers.

"Your pathetic little 'take-over' of America is to be called off immediately, or you will notice your criminal empire starting to fall around you. This momentous day will be the highest point of your criminal career, and the game is over.

"You've seen what my men can do. Just look at what happened to the building you are in."

"You…? _You!_" spat Diz furiously. "You sent that pink-haired murderer?"

"Yes. And that was just a taste, a flake of salt on a potato chip of misery, for you. This can all be avoided, however, if you turn yourself into the authorities, and call off your ventures to drown America in chaos."

"_I…will…not_," said Diz through clenched teeth. "You have no _idea_ who you are messing with."

"On the contrary," said Xehanort. "I know very much who you are; a nothing. An annoying younger sibling that can easily be pushed out of the way. However, it royally pisses me off that you are on a mass-murder mission. _I need these people alive_. Do you still decline?"

Diz said nothing, just kept his lips pursed in fury.

"Very well. Zexion, work your magic."

Xehanort disappeared from the screen.

All of the computer monitors simultaneously went blue, with white text of code sailing the ocean of errors.

Coy pressed keys anxiously, trying to find a solution as Diz watched in horror, but to no avail…the expensive, well-guarded computers went out like broken light bulbs.

As Moloch pressed the power button to his computer and achieving nothing, Coy turned to Diz and said:

"I think we've just pissed off some very, very, _very_ bad people."

* * *

**So there you go. I have to go do work and writing and stuff. And for those who also read Fatherhood, I'm kinda at a brain fart, so bear with my lateness. Much appreciated.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)**


	19. Blue Stars

**Good evening to all. Haji, here with another thrilling chapter. I spent a week writing this, and I do believe I might have gotten a little too carried away with the word count. Almost eleven thousand words! But, it was all for your enjoyment, and this will stave off that addiction you have to this tale until the next chapter unfolds.**

**Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Aqua was in a panic. Riku had frightened her. All communications to all of her affiliates had ceased since the attack on the Washington Monument. And it didn't help that the Heartless were following her every move. She couldn't go anywhere without seeing one of Diz's minions staring after her. She could feel their anticipation.

Diz had placed a hit on her.

She was going to have to do something about it, even if it meant outing herself as a criminal mastermind. She was going to have to get a message out to her employees quickly, or she would be dead within a week. She had no protection save for the two bodyguards she kept in close proximity, but if someone were to come up close, she would be defenseless. She couldn't let that happen.

So she devised a plan to break Isa out of jail. Isa had called Hayner and sent him to her with a blueprint of the police station and a small box of explosive fireworks. The label read 'Alex and Lea's: Go out with a BANG!' Aqua smiled inwardly, and immediately set to work, rigging the small fireworks to police cars. The box had instructions written on the side, and Aqua frowned at how easily she was doing this. Even if she wasn't a criminal, she shouldn't have been able to set up explosives as easily as she had.

But, she finished setting up her trap and entered the police station. It was busier than usual, people running about mindlessly, screaming about murders and rape. Aqua wasn't concerned though. She approached the police officer at the front desk and leaned over the counter, smiling seductively.

"Hi," Aqua hummed. "I was wondering if you could help me."

The officer blushed, feeling instantly that carnal desire rise in his chest and that tingling in his loins. "Uhh, sure. What do you need?"

Aqua glanced to the side and saw Isa sitting in a cage. He had seen her and was preparing himself for his escape. Aqua looked back at the officer. He was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide his erection. It was obvious he hadn't seen a beautiful woman in a long time because he was being so blunt about his stares and stutters.

"I think I saw someone on the corner," Aqua said softly. "They looked like they were carrying a bomb. I just thought I'd let you know."

The officer froze, going limp instantly as he stared at Aqua. She was smiling back, but it was sly and intimidating. He called another officer to the desk and exited the station. Aqua looked after him, and not even a minute later, intense waves of sound blasted through the brick and fire ate up all the paper in sight. Police officers scrambled, trying to get each other out of the flames and howling in pain. Aqua grabbed the keys off another officer's desk and opened the cell door.

The misdemeanor criminals inside didn't move right away. They feared Aqua. They had seen he enter the police station, and they feared that she would kill them as easily as she had killed those officers without a second thought. Isa stood up and left the cage.

"Listen up!" Aqua cried over the sound of fire alarms and cried of desperation. "You are free to do what ever you please now. I have come here on the behalf of Someone. This Someone demands that you kill any and all Heartless. Steal from them, rape their wives and sisters, and crush their spines."

Aqua looked at each of the men in the cage. She knew that at least half of them were under her employment, for they nodded without thinking. The others looked apprehensive. Aqua frowned.

"For those who work for Someone already, you may leave."

Six men stood and exited the cell, bowing their heads respectively as they left. Isa noted the small black "A" behind each of the men's ears and let them pass without a word. The other men in the cell didn't budge. Aqua blinked slowly.

"You decline Someone's invitation?" She asked.

One of the men stood up. "That Someone is a menace to us all. They will burn before God."

"Is that so?"

The man moved forward. Aqua let him pass halfway before stopping him forcefully. "I may burn before God." She pushed him back into the cage. "But not before you burn in Hell."

Aqua slammed the door and locked it. The fire was burning higher, clogging the building in black smoke. The man suddenly became terrified. He grabbed Aqua and pulled her back.

"Help me, please!"

Aqua wrenched her arm away. "Fuck you."

Isa smiled and followed Aqua out of the crumbling building. The structure itself was so old, it fell without effort. Colorful sparks were shooting everywhere, and Aqua disappeared without a trace. Not even her Heartless tails saw her leave,

Isa laughed as Aqua handed him a gun. "So, where are we off to?"

Aqua stared out the window. Her thoughts turned to Riku, who was alone and suffering from some kind of breakdown. She wanted to go find him, but she had more important things to take care of. She had to get a message out, and there was only one person she knew of who could pass her message along the East Coast without being flagged by the FBI.

"We're going to Miami."

Isa relaxed and leaned back. "Ahh, a vacation. Just what I need."

"No vacation, Isa." Isa tensed up again as Aqua flipped her phone open. "We need to pick up some of your guys on the way. Hope you don't mind."

Isa frowned. "Never." He paused. "How many?"

"Three."

"Stake out? Protection?"

Aqua threw her phone out the window. "Insurance."

* * *

Sora was nervous. And it became increasingly obvious that his nervousness was getting the better of him more often. It was beginning to annoy him, how it crept up on him more and more frequently, leaving his mind defenseless to his unrequited fears. And that knot in his stomach that just would not ease.

Demyx was curled by his side, his head covered in a bag, and he was whimpering. Sora had never kidnapped someone before, much less someone who was known by the public. He had idolized this man, made it his mission to one day go to his concerts, but his idol was evil. Or at least part of an evil organization, and that made Sora think. If he idolized someone evil, did that make him evil as well?

"Okay," Goofy whispered. "We need to do this right. If we go in wrong, he'll clam up and we'll be right where we were before. So, I'll set him up. Then we discuss our tactic. Got it?"

Sora nodded. He didn't want to hurt Demyx. But he was bad. And bad people deserved to be punished, right? Sora wasn't so sure anymore, and he wished Riku was there. Riku would be able to clear that up for him in a heartbeat. Demyx whimpered louder, and, to Sora, it sounded soulless. Fake. A clever ruse to gain sympathy.

And it was working.

The van came to an abrupt halt, and Goofy and Don hopped out and set Demyx up in a steel chair, hands bound behind him, bag still tight over his head. Demyx stopped whimpering and moved his head around, even though he couldn't see a thing. His breathing was erratic. He was pierced with fear.

"Are you going to kill me?" Demyx asked, rather high-pitched.

Goofy didn't say anything, but pulled Sora to the side. He kept his head low and his voice even lower. "Listen, you are going to talk to him."

"What?" Sora squeaked. "Me? No. I can't."

"Listen!" Goofy pulled him closer. "It's not hard, just get him talking. He'll eventually open up. Keep him talking. And, above all, don't mention your parents. He'll shut up after that. Think you can do this?"

Sora nodded, but still felt a sliver of apprehension bury itself into the back of his mind. He wasn't entirely sure if he could do what Goofy was asking him. Don and Goofy guided Kairi into a separate room, and the echo of a locking door bounced off the rafters. Sora focused on Demyx, and swallowed slowly.

They had pulled into a warehouse, and the only light provided was from a few dying lamps dozens of feet above them. They flickered and the light reflected in the scattered pools of water. There was a quiet clink of chains in the distance, and the sound of workers outside. The beeps of trucks, and the purr of diesel engines. They were on a construction site somewhere.

"Demyx?"

Demyx straightened up and struggled against his binds. "Who's there?"

Sora opened his mouth, but he knew he was going to sound unsure of himself, so he closed his mouth and took a couple of deep breaths before speaking. "You've done some horrible things."

Demyx trembled. Sora figured that if he could place himself somewhere else in his mind, he would be able to pull this little act of his off without having to hurt the puny rock star. He had to become like Riku. Tough and unbreakable. A gangster. Someone much more powerful than he was.

"You took something from us." Sora said. "Something very important."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Demyx cried. "You've got the wrong guy. I swear."

"Stop talking."

Demyx quieted and Sora could hear the distinct sound of sobbing. He reached for the bag over his head, but he thought better of it. If Demyx saw it was only a kid talking to him, he would never find out what it is that he wanted. He had to change his questioning.

"The Washington Monument." Sora growled. "Your group attacked it."

"No…"

"You heard the radio just like I did!" Sora yelled. He thought he sounded convincing, and it even scared him how angry he was. "The Heartless! They attacked the Monument! _You_ attacked the Monument!"

"No!" Demyx screamed. "Not me! I'm not a Heartless!"

Sora smiled, then frowned again. Demyx confessed that he wasn't a Heartless. Then, what was he?

"Who do you work for?"

"That's none of your business." Demyx said. "I'll never tell you, child."

Sora gasped. How did he know?

"What?" Demyx asked, gaining a strange confidence. It was like he was mocking him. "You think I don't know when I'm talking to a child? How old are you? Twelve?"

Sora stuttered. "S-S-Seventeen. How did you know I was…?"

Demyx laughed. "You've got to be kidding me! Jesus Christ, kidnapped by a kid. Zexion would love this. Listen, you should let me go. Before very bad things happen to you."

"I can't let you go." Sora said.

"Not even if I said please?" Demyx whined. "Oh, shit."

"Tell me…"

Demyx relaxed more. "What do you want to know? I'm not a Heartless. That's grounds enough to let me go."

"You were driving a van." Sora started. He was beginning to boil. Demyx was getting under his skin, but he wasn't quite sure what was bothering him, or why it was bothering him so much.

"Lots of people drive vans." Demyx answered.

"At the hotel…"

"I've been to a lot of hotels."

Sora trembled. The man he looked up to had taken his parents, and was mocking his every comment. If he was purposely being difficult, Sora wasn't handling the reverse psychology very well, for he became angry and defensive.

"You took my parents!" Sora screamed. "Admit it! Where are they?"

Demyx laughed harder. "So that's what you want, is it?" He swiveled in place. "I'll give you two guesses."

Goofy rushed out of the separate room and dragged Sora away from Demyx. Sora had almost attacked the rock star in blind fury, and if Goofy hadn't dragged him away, he probably would have choked him. Goofy pushed him into the separate room and slammed the door shut.

"What did I tell you, boy?"

Sora hung his head. "I don't know what came over me, Goof. I'm sorry."

"Sorry is not enough," Don said. "We needed him to be more cooperative. He's not going to tell us anything now. He's already built up his mental defenses. It'll be harder to get what we need. I believe it's the tactic known as Buffering. If I am caught up on my literature, it's a complicated maneuver described in _The Human Mind. _It requires a simple act to break it."

Goof cracked his knuckles. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Don nodded. "But, my dear friend, please allow me."

Sora watched the TV screens that were all focused on Demyx, reading his every facial expression, studying his every twitch. Don appeared on the screen. He had pulled his shirt off, and was wrapping his hands in knotted rope. Tattoos stretched across his back and down his arms.

"He was well known in Armenia for his skills in interrogation." Goofy said somberly. "But, he can get a bit carried away."

Sora opened his mouth, but didn't say anything.

"If Demyx makes it through this session, he's got some balls." Goofy frowned. "But he will definitely be a broken man."

Don laced his fingers together, but it was difficult because the rope was so tight around his knuckles. He flexed, stretching his muscles and rolling his head around. He shook his head quickly before addressing Demyx. His accent was still thick as ever, but his words were clear.

"You will not lie."

"What?" Demyx asked tartly.

Don ripped the bag from Demyx's head and punched him. Demyx flew back, the chair crushing his arms. He cried out pitifully, and blood spilled from his mouth.

"What the fuck?"

Don picked Demyx up and placed him carefully in the little circle of light. "Just so I get my point across."

Demyx huffed, already worn out from Don's attack. "What do you want?"

Don grabbed a fistful of Demyx's hair and forced his head up. "Tell me who your boss is."

Demyx smiled and shook his head. He regretted it instantly, as Don's rope-covered fist collided with the side of his head again. But, he didn't fall to the floor this time. No, this time, Don kept him in place. He looked undisturbed. He was causing this man so much pain, but it was as if he didn't care that this man existed. Demyx was in the way of _his _boss. And Don was more loyal to his friends than a dying Bloodhound to its master.

Demyx cried openly, choking over the pain that throbbed in his face. He sorely wished he could be back at the beach where he had first been punched by the Guido. It felt a thousand times better than this. But, despite his cowardice, he knew he was better off taking another hit then being left to fend for himself if Xehanort ever found out that he ratted them out.

"Fuck you," Demyx sobbed. He then spat in Don's face. It was bloody and half-hearted, just enough to wet Don's cheek.

Don wiped his face callously. He glared right through Demyx and let his hair go. He took a few steps into the shadows. Demyx panicked. He didn't want to get punched again. He was close to breaking, but he knew he would be richly rewarded if he could make though his beating, though the chances of that happening were growing dimmer with every passing second.

"H-Hello?" Demyx sputtered. "Where are you?"

"You are not answering me," Don growled from the cover of darkness. "This makes me disappointed."

Demyx grew more terrified. The sound of Don's voice from the shadows did not make that unsettled feeling in his chest go away. In fact, if Demyx hadn't been tied to a chair and knocked into next Tuesday, he would have run as fast as he could in whatever direction Don's voice wasn't coming from. He wasn't even aware that the small tingle of chain metal was coming closer from behind him, until a metal snake curled around his neck and he was forced backwards with enough momentum to snap trees.

"Who do you work for?" Don growled in Demyx's ear.

Demyx coughed. His throat was closing, and he could barely breathe, much less tell Don what he wanted to know. He struggled as much as he could, but his face still paled and tinged blue. He opened his mouth repeatedly, and could not manage to make a single sound other than a morbid gurgle.

"Don!" Goofy stormed out and wrestled Demyx from Don's chokehold. "Stop!"

Don dropped Demyx and fought Goofy. "I've almost got him."

When Demyx caught his breath, the only thing he could manage was a howl of fear. It curdled the blood in Goofy's veins and he pushed Don away.

"Get a hold of yourself!"

Don tensed, but relaxed as Goofy rested his hand on his shoulder. His still breathed with the intensity of a raging bull. But he had calmed himself to a level where he could still speak, though his face was red with anger. He forced a smile and backed away. He had to clean himself up. When he passed Demyx, he grabbed the back of the chair and placed him right side up. Demyx panicked.

"I'll talk! I'll talk!" He was livid, filled with the desperation that only a broken man could possess. "Whatever you want! Just don't kill me…please….I'll talk…I'll talk…I'll talk…" He broke down into uncontrollable sobs.

Goofy stayed behind as Don left and Sora stood beside him, grasping Kairi's hand. They both were horrified by what they saw on the TV screen, and Sora had barely been able to pull Kairi out of that room. Before them was a broken man. A man with no more dignity or self respect.

Goofy pulled out a silenced pistol. "Start talking."

Demyx swallowed quickly, and he spoke without pauses. The faster he spilled the beans, the faster he could escape. "The Organization XIII. Thirteen of the scariest motherfuckers you've never heard of. Nobodies in the eyes of society. Yes, we took your parents. Yes, we experimented on them. They're dead. But, it wasn't me. I didn't do it."

"Who's the leader?" Goofy asked.

"Dr. Christopher Xehanort!" Demyx cried. "He's the brains behind this. He chose us. I don't know why, but he did."

"What are your plans?"

"We made a virus. One that could kill everything." Demyx's worried frown twisted into a smile the Cheshire Cat would envy. "So we couldn't be stopped when we made it to Kingdom Hearts. So we could be invincible!"

Goofy was taken aback by the sudden viciousness in Demyx's voice. "Why were you chosen for this 'Organization XIII'? You don't strike me as the evil type."

Demyx laughed. "I've killed my fair share of worthless men. Those who defile Earth's most sacred beauty. I drowned them in their own misery and made them drink salt water for eternity. And then I wrote a song about it."

"You disgust me." Sora said.

Demyx looked at him. "Well, I'm sorry your little world isn't as perfect as you'd like. I didn't raise you with rose colored glasses. It's a scary world out there. And I'm not even the worst one."

Sora made a move forward, but held himself back for Kairi's sake. When Demyx told them that they had experimented on his parents and killed them, his first emotion wasn't sadness or fear, but a deranged hatred. A hatred that, if left unchecked, could make him a spiteful, revenge seeking murderer. And he didn't want to scare Kairi more than she already was. He didn't think that she had prepared herself for such unfortunate circumstances. And neither did he.

Goofy cocked his head to the side. For some reason, Demyx's confessions didn't sound right. If he had been so eager to kill a man before, why was he outing his own party? Something didn't feel right to him. He pressed the tip of the silencer to  
Demyx's forehead. "Who's Luxord?"

Demyx frowned. Apparently his attempts at misdirection were proving less than believable. He was trying to come up with a lie, but he couldn't do it fast enough. Goofy poked him threateningly. "Uhh…he's my partner, you know? Like the guy who I work with most of the time."

That was a lie, or really more of a half truth. Luxord was often confronted by Demyx on behalf of Xehanort, but 'partners' wasn't really the word to describe their relationship. It was more like Demyx went and checked on Luxord's gambling habit every once in a while, just to make sure he wasn't raising the stakes too high. And Luxord would continue to fuck Lady Luck in the ass, then dump the money into offshore accounts. It was a distant relationship at best, but they were the two laziest members of the Organization since neither one had any scientific credentials to speak of.

Goofy drew back. Demyx breathed a small sigh of relief when he was not kissing the metal killer anymore, but he was almost immediately thrust into another uncomfortable situation. He had already betrayed his Superiors. And he was good as dead if he couldn't figure out how to get rid of his captors. He was about to start his negotiations when his phone rang. It was a ringtone version of his song 'She Sells Seashells' and when it echoed in the warehouse, Demyx paled.

"Who's that?" Goofy barked.

Demyx struggled to get to his phone, but gave up quickly. "I don't know. It's probably Luxord." The phone continued to ring. "Get it for me. If I don't answer it, they will know that I'm not loyal to them anymore."

Goofy pulled Demyx's phone from his pocket. "He can leave a message."

"No!" Demyx cried. "You don't understand. If you don't answer the phone, you must be dead. And if they find you alive, they will kill you. Please. Answer it!"

Goofy flipped the phone open and placed it to Demyx's ear. "No funny business."

Demyx nodded and kept his voice as level as he could. "Hey, Luxord!"

Goofy quickly put the phone on speaker, and Luxord's drunken drawl blared from the tiny speaker. "Hey, Demyx! You know I've been waitin' for you for eva'. Where the 'ell are you?"

Demyx scowled. "All flights have been grounded in my area. I can't get out there right now. I'll be driving instead."

"Damn you," Luxord cried. "Do you 'ave any idea how long it takes to drive from New York to Las Vegas? A damn long time."

Demyx sighed. "I'll be leaving today, at nightfall. I just need the Bossman's permission, you know. He hates his plans being interrupted."

"Yeah, I know. Just called the fucker meself," Luxord chuckled. "Right pissy mood I'd say. Any word from Lex?"

"Uhh, I gotta go, buddy," Demyx said quickly. "People been staring too long."

Luxord cheered. The whirls of slot machines and the sounds of gambling rang through the phone. "I'll see you here."

"And sober up while you're at it." Demyx retorted.

"Fuck you, Dem."

Goofy closed the phone. "You did well. Kept your cool and everything."

"So let me go, eh?"

"We can't do that." Don came from the shadows and stood next to Goofy. He looked completely normal, like he didn't just try to choke a man to death. "You're going to take us to this Luxord. We wouldn't want your plans to be halted now, would we?"

Demyx whimpered, all confidence lost at the sight of his attacker. "B-But…"

But, nothing," Don said, silencing the pathetic rock star. "We will prepare for departure and leave when the sun goes down. Until then, you shall stay here."

"Wait!" Demyx screamed. "If you leave me here, I won't be able to answer my phone."

Don stuffed a rag in Demyx's mouth and departed. "Then, you better hope nobody decides to call you today."

Demyx made muffled protests, but he was abandoned by his captors. They wouldn't come back for him until nightfall, and that was still quite a while away. He prayed no one decided that they wanted to ask him something, or he would certainly be slaughtered by Marluxia. To not answer the phone was treason, and treason was dealt with by the pink demon.

"We're just going to leave him there?" Sora asked as he helped Kairi into the van.

Don nodded. "We need to collect supplies for travel. Riku should be with us for this. And I need to do a little research into Demyx's stories. Some things didn't sit right with Goofy. Then, we will leave."

Sora frowned. They had to find Riku, but they had no idea where he was. If anything, he wouldn't be at the hotel they had stayed at, and Sora wasn't close enough with Riku to know where he would go for leisure. He had asked Kairi, but she didn't know either.

And, Sora shuddered, for a peculiar feeling was creeping through his mind. He wasn't sure, but he kept thinking about numbers. Numbers in a sequential order that didn't quite make sense. One, one, two, three. Then it would repeat itself. Then repeat itself again. And he got that overbearing feeling that he was peeking into Riku's thoughts. Just like before with the woman.

And that concerned him.

* * *

Riku wandered the streets, muttering angrily under his breath. His eyes were still bloodshot, his breathing hard, and people would avoid him even though it was evident that he needed help. He had abandoned Aqua in the street when all the TVs in New York were showing the devastation of the felling of the Washington Monument. Riku knew instantly what he had to do, and his brain ricocheted around in his skull.

The numbers floating in his mind's eye turned a horrid shade of crimson and they stretched farther along, speaking to him in a strange language. And things would flash in front of him. Parts of technology that he didn't recognize, words that weren't human. And his fingers would twitch in anticipation, but he could never get the figures down fast enough. He would stop when it became too much for him, and he would forcefully scratch numbers into whatever surface he could write upon, even going so far as to gouge the language into the earth. And when it would lessen in intensity, he would move onward.

He couldn't form words though. Not true words. Whenever he tried to seek the help of his fellow man when he wasn't under the complete control of the Keyblade, he could only string one or two complete thoughts together before he would be lost in his increasingly violent world.

"The door to the Kingdom is open," Riku growled at a man he had grabbed. It wasn't meant to be feral sounding, but that was the most important thing on his mind, and nothing else could be said until the point was across.

Almost at once, the man pushed him away and ran. Riku wanted to protest, but didn't care anymore as he made his way down various streets. He had the feeling that someone was watching him. Not from any stoop or building, but from a place inaccessible to him at that moment. He was trying to get himself there, and knew exactly how to do it. He needed supplies, but the tiny receivers in his brain could not locate anything usable. Human technology was too primitive for what he needed, but he had to get off this miserable planet. He had to improvise.

His possessed body eventually carried him to the hotel where he had first saved Sora from Marluxia. And, across the street sat the little computer store where the Keyblade used to call a little velvet pillow home. The doors were locked when Riku pressed his nose to the glass, and no matter how hard he pulled, the door would not budge. He looked around cautiously and disappeared down an alleyway, only to return minutes later with a large broken bit of metal. He smashed the front door, and pulled the wires out of the wall when the alarm went off.

He climbed through the hole, and immediately went to work, sifting through the computer parts. He had a simple idea of what he was looking for, and he completely ignored any and all words spoken to him by people outside, who had been shocked to see such an aggravated act of vandalism. The formulas in his mind began to make more sense when he found a circuit board or piece of memory that could be used by the receivers in his brain.

Riku hastily connected the pieces together, forming odd shaped items that resembled stars. He made several of these 'stars' and placed them delicately around the store. As they settled, the stars lit up, projecting eerie holograms on the walls. They were blank, just a simple pale blue canvas, ready for whatever it was Riku was going to write upon them. Riku didn't smile in satisfaction, but frowned in annoyance. His contraptions were weak little things, and he was disappointed that he could not make them stronger, but he had no time to worry about that.

He sat at a computer, plugged in a tablet, and wrote, spilling everything that he had written so far into the little stars. The stars glittered, and spat the equations and figures on the walls. The numbers would move slowly around every available space in the store, bouncing off mirrors and reflecting on the windows. And Riku would only write. He had finally built himself a quiet place to acknowledge and move on. Nothing could disturb him, and the pulsing in his temples dulled after hours of endlessly transcribing his formulas.

And he would have been free of his psychological intruders, if Sora didn't barge his way in. Riku looked up, eyes still as red and demonizing as ever, and he hissed. Sora stopped and raised his arm defensively, the Keyblade glowing blue like the star's lights. Riku stood, the veins in his forehead quivering violently again. He tried to shake that inhuman emotion that rose his chest away. That emotion of pure and unwavering evil. An evil that was more like intense logic and scientific law than any feeling a human could understand. A cold presence.

Something that could freeze Hell over.

"Riku!" Sora cried. He didn't approach his friend because even he could see something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

"The door to the Kingdom is open, Sora!" Riku barked. He turned back to the computer and scribbled more numbers. "We must prepare!"

"Riku…"

"We must forget the trivialities of man, Sora." Riku continued. "They had their chance, and they have missed it. We must prepare, or we will lose out as well."

Sora took a tentative step forward. The Keyblade grew hot in his hand, and he almost dropped it, but he knew that would be a fatal mistake. "We have to go, Riku. Kairi's waiting for us outside. We got them. Demyx, he told us everything."

Riku didn't move. "Demyx is just a pawn, Sora. He is not important. He is useless to us. I have what we need. The codec. I have it."

Sora glanced around at the walls. The holograms displayed the data, and it moved together flawlessly. To, Sora, it seemed to merge together into simple shapes, and the shapes combined to make charts and blueprints. Blueprints for Keyblades, energy containment devices, and machines that were far more advanced than anything the Government could even conceptualize. It was amazing.

Riku motioned to the numbers. "You see? They are trying to help us, Sora. They are giving us a chance to get there on our own. We must prepare for it!"

Sora was tempted, but the thought of Kairi outside broke that temptation. He took another careful step forward. Riku became silent, watching Sora suspiciously.

"You think I'm crazy." Riku stated flatly. "You don't believe it."

"It's not that," Sora answered. "It's just…things have gotten complicated. And Kairi is scared. I wouldn't want to make it worse…"

Riku growled at him with that same inhuman inflection that showed Sora just how far-gone he was. He wasn't Riku anymore. He was just a shell occupied by someone—or something—else. Sora could feel a fight brewing between them. It was only a matter of who was going to strike first.

And it was Riku.

He jumped over the piles of broken computer parts that he had left strewn across the floor. The stars shuddered and fizzled out audibly, though it was drowned by the roar of anger that escaped from Riku's lips. He tackled Sora, and they both crashed through the shelves. Sora tried to yell some sense into his psychotic friend, but Riku would not listen. They rolled over each other, spitting hateful remarks. And their brains battled each other as well, for images and numbers rolled together to form beings fighting in the same fashion.

Sora kicked Riku off him and made his way to the door. He wanted to get away before he did something he was going to regret. Riku wasn't going to let him go so easily. He grabbed Sora's ankle, and he crashed to the floor again. Riku was a madman.

"We need to prepare, Sora!" Riku roared. "You must prepare!"

Sora cried out as the Keyblade sent a shock up his arm. It almost reached his brain, but Riku choked him.

"Oh, no you don't!" Riku pressed his forearm across Sora's throat. "You're not going anywhere."

The fire subsided and Sora was beginning to lose consciousness when Kairi smashed Riku over the head with a broken shelf. Riku was unfazed, but he spun around, distracted by such a rash move. Sora gasped for air, and shoved the Keyblade into Riku's side. Riku locked up and fell face first on the floor. He twitched subtly, and spit out a metallic looking marble. Sora sat up and scrambled backwards as the metallic marble slid across the floor. The Keyblade burned hotter, and Sora tried to get to his feet, but the metallic marble connected with the other-worldly weapon and a beam of light shot from Keyblade's side. The button on the side blinked a harsh red before it calmed to a blissful green.

It was ready for something.

Sora looked at Kairi. She had dropped her makeshift weapon and was crying silently. She had just attacked the one person who had been there for her in her times of most need. And she wasn't even worried about him. She was much more concerned with Sora, and when she had pulled herself together, she helped Sora to his feet. The Keyblade had stopped burning and returned to its gentle hum. Sora put it in his pocket and turned to Kairi.

"There's something wrong with him."

Kairi nodded, but didn't say anything. Instead, she flipped her phone open and called Don and Goofy. The van pulled up to the store, and Don hopped out. He climbed through hole in the front door and whistled disapprovingly at the mess before him. Kairi left the store and got into the van without speaking.

"What happened?" Don asked, hoisting Riku over his shoulder.

Sora opened the door for Don and helped him put Riku into the van. "We fought. There's something wrong with him. I think he might be sick." He paused. "I think the Keyblade did it to him. He keeps talking about preparing for the door to the kingdom or something. It concerns me."

Goofy sped away. The van was full of food and water bottles. Sora frowned inwardly. He didn't like how things were starting to turn out. Things were getting far too complicated. More in depth. More enemies. More obstacles. It was beginning to get to be too much. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to take it without cracking for much longer.

The warehouse lot was abandoned by the time they arrived. Demyx was still sitting were they had left him. His head was hanging, and distinct sniffs broke the silence every couple of minutes. As soon as he heard the warehouse doors open, he looked up. His eyes were red and puffy. He had been crying for some unknown reason. And the sight of his captors did not help.

Don approached him and ripped the rag from his mouth. "It's time to go. I will release your bonds. You will not try to escape. You will remain calm, or I will not be so kind to you next time."

Demyx nodded, and when his hands had been released from their constraints, he stood up slowly. He took a couple steps forward, Don following closely. They made their way out of the warehouse as night fell, and Demyx remained completely calm, not moving too quickly. Sora stood outside of the van, pleading with Kairi, but no matter what he said, she would not look at him. Demyx weighed his options. He would not be able to outrun anyone. He was too tired and beaten. He wouldn't be able to make it far if he did run. But, there was a chance, wasn't there? Even if it was slim?

Demyx didn't even dwell on this thought for a second before he pulled out of Don's grasp and darted away. Sora caught this action out of the corner of his eye, and he pulled the Keyblade from his pocket. Demyx wasn't even thinking as he ran. He only knew one thing: He had missed a phone call. And he was stricken with a fear that would not ever subside.

Sora brandished the Keyblade out. It connected with Demyx's side, and two things happened at once. First, Demyx locked up and cried out in pain. Black liquid stained his veins, shooting up to his face, and permanently setting in. His skin burned, and it filmed over with a waxy substance. And half of his face was lined with dark indications of where his veins were. And he collapsed.

Second, Sora clutched his head, screamed at the top of his lungs and fell to the ground, writhing beside Demyx's motionless body. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his brain was once again barraged by visions.

_Shift…_

The Great Barrier Reef in Australia was by far one of the most beautiful oceanic views one could see in his life time. Pictures just did not do it justice, with the number of colors, corals, and fish in the expanse of natural wonder. And this is where Damien Taylor spent most of his time. Sitting at the water's edge, strumming the guitar his music teacher gave him, and singing. That's what he did. He sang.

And he sang about the ocean. Her beauty, her strength, her wisdom. And he would defend her like she was any real woman. Fight for her protection, and give himself to her entirely. To the point where he would sit for days and sing to Her. His parents were never concerned. Like an unnatural attraction to the ocean was as common as a kangaroo. So they never sought help for their poor son who was falling deeper and deeper into an unhealthy obsession. They didn't scold him for beating up his fellow classmates whenever they would soil the ocean with garbage, motor oils, or even shat. No, it was perfectly normal, because they were the same way.

Damien was gentle though. Never got into trouble for anything else, and was gifted with his music. Writing ballads that could make the most hardcore rocker cry his eyes out. His teachers praised him for his talent, and even signed him up for music competitions all across Australia. He had eventually made it to the Sydney Opera House, where he was appreciated by hundreds of thousands of people.

However, as time passed, Damien would forget his talents in search of something much more for his life. He didn't like that people wanted him for his music. His music was never for them. It was for Her. And they could never understand that. They could never understand the love for the ocean he had, and they were mocking him by claiming him as one of the most prominent musicians of his time. He was not. He was singing the ocean's song, and they wanted to give the credit to him.

This made him angry inside. Churned his guts to the point of almost insanity. He would beg people to love the ocean's songs, not his. They ignored his pleas, and thrust him into the spotlight once again, where he would desperately try to return to the same beach he had grown up on. But, his fame would not allow that. He had to keep up with the people's demand, and when he failed, they ostracized him.

After a particularly horrible performance, Damien trudged down to the beach on his hands and knees, begging the ocean to forgive his infidelities. Promising that he would never let anything come between them again. He cried for hours as the ocean did nothing to calm his nerves. It was pitch dark, and a couple vacationing from America came up behind him, laughing snidely. They were mocking him.

"Hey," said the man. He was drunk, as was his girlfriend, and it was obvious that he was going to show off. "What are you doin', Downunder?"

Damien looked up, wiping the tears from his face. He had to show some sort of dignity to his fellow man, though he was beginning to detest them more and more. "Please, leave me alone. I am trying to find my peace."

"Peace?" The man belched. "In the ocean? What? You tryin' to fuck it?"

Damien shook his head and spat at the man. "Fuck you. You know nothing about Her. She is bigger than you! Show some respect!"

"Fuck me?" The man barked. He ran to the water's edge and unzipped his pants. "Fuck you, and your little ocean." As he peed into the water, he laughed at the top of his lungs. "You see? I'm giving your little girlfriend a golden shower. What do you think about that?"

Damien didn't think about his next move. He rose to his feet and tackled the man. They both crashed into the water and struggled to fight one another, but Damien was filled with such a primal rage, he didn't care how much he got hurt. He grabbed the man by the back of his head and forced it into the black salt water. The man struggled against him, but Damien wouldn't let go.

After a few minutes, their battle was over, and Damien stood up, soaked. The man was floating like a dead fish, his eyes and mouth open in shock. His girlfriend had fled as soon as she knew her boyfriend was going to lose that fight. But Damien didn't care. He took his place at the water's edge, placing his feet in the gentle ripples and resting his body on the sand. And the ocean seemed to ripple a little more forcefully, as if to show gratitude.

The next morning, Damien was promptly arrested. He had been sitting on the beach the whole night, and didn't resist the police when they arrived. The dead man's girlfriend was with them, sober and hysterical, pointing at him like he had committed the worst crime in history. He had merely killed a man for disrespecting nature's beauty. Nothing more. There was no real hostility afterwards, and he hadn't tried to hide the body. No, he had just done what came naturally to him. He had protected Her.

Damien sat in jail for a long time before he was allowed one phone call. However, to his surprise, when he picked up the receiver, he was greeted by the sound of ocean waves. His heart almost exploded with joy, but it was interrupted by a man's voice.

"Good Day, Damien Taylor."

Damien wheezed, but didn't say anything.

"I understand that you now share a similar goal with me," The voice said.

"What's that?" Damien asked softly.

"You want to rid the world of those who do not share your respect for nature," the voice answered coolly. "Is that not what your display of violence was for?"

"Yes."

"Are you not a gentle musician who only wants people to respect…Her?"

"Yes." Damien sobbed.

"Then, work with me," the voice said. "I can make that happen for you." The voice paused. "Do you accept?"

Damien looked to the side at the guard, who tapped his watch impatiently. "Yes, I accept."

The voice giggled. "Excellent! I'll see you in the States."

"America?"

"Certainly." The voice said. "And I would suggest that you lie underneath your bunk when they take you back to your cell. It'll save you a headache or two."

Damien hung up the phone and was escorted back to his cell. After the guard left, he slipped underneath his bunk. He laid there for a long time, feeling stupid after about an hour. And just as he was about to climb back out, an explosion rattled the bars of his cell, and bits of the ceiling fell. Damien panicked, screaming just like other prisoners, though he was just scared, not injured.

Then, a red headed man poked his head under the bunk. "You agreed to the terms of the agreement." He stuck a hand under and pulled Damien out. "Welcome to the Organization. You're Damien Taylor, right?"

Damien nodded.

"Well, now your name is Demyx, and you are ranked number nine." The man pointed to himself. "I'm Axel. It's nice to meet you, motherfucker."

Damien was hoisted up and out of the jail by a helicopter. Axel held him up, but Damien was still scared shitless. And he screamed the entire trip. The voice, Axel, his new name being Demyx. It was all a little much for him to absorb, but as soon as he was to safety, everything inside him calmed.

He was a new man. Freer. More independent. And ready to do whatever the voice on the phone said. He was Demyx, ranked nine. And he loved it.

_Shift…_

"Sora?"

Sora opened his eyes, and he was hit with a massive headache. Kairi was kneeling over him, and she wavered in and out of focus. She sounded concerned, but she didn't touch him.

"Sora…I think you might have…Don says you're going to be…Goofy, you have to help…"

Sora couldn't focus on Kairi's voice. He could hear her, and her words would slur together, forming sentences that didn't make sense to him. He blinked slowly for a few more minutes before he fell into the safety of his completely blank mind.

And, there, he rested.

* * *

Marluxia closed his cell phone impatiently. He was standing in the office of Allen Bradshaw, the man who had taken control of Male Inc., the company Aqua had sold. Marluxia had called Demyx, but decided against his decision to ask him something almost instantly. The phone only rang twice, and if Demyx had picked up by the third ring, he would have been greeted by a dial tone. But, Marluxia had changed his mind. He decided that he was going to deal with Allen Bradshaw alone.

Mr. Bradshaw is what people called him, and he had stayed late to finish up his paperwork. And, presently, was the prisoner of Marluxia. They were in the midst of an intense negotiation. Mr. Bradshaw's secretary had also stayed late to help him with his last few papers. Her name was Susan, and she had let Marluxia into Mr. Bradshaw's office without thinking. But, she regretted that decision after Marluxia revealed himself to be a monster. She was tied to her chair with think vines. And she had been wheeled into Mr. Bradshaw's office like a live trophy.

"We need to talk, Mr. Bradshaw," Marluxia sang, reading the nameplate on the desk.

Mr. Bradshaw didn't move. He had not been tied to his chair, but he was stricken with a fear unlike any other he had experienced in his life. He was sweating profusely, and he nodded slowly. Marluxia wasn't wielding any weapon at the time, but his presence was enough to prevent any type of mutiny.

"What do you want?"

Marluxia did not have any kind of people skills to speak of. He could keep up a façade for as long as it took to capture his prey, but after that pivotal moment, he became a completely different being. He smiled constantly, making the prickles in his prey's spines stay there eternally. Sometimes his face would twitch excitedly, but he would quickly mask it behind a wave of medically induced lethargy.

Marluxia leaned across Mr. Bradshaw's desk and stared at him. He was quiet for a long time, studying the CEO carefully. "Aqua. I want to know everything about her. _Everything._"

Mr. Bradshaw squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, but didn't dare move. "I don't know what you're talking about. Please, I'm just a victim of circumstance. I don't know…"

Marluxia stuck two fingers in his mouth and Mr. Bradshaw choked on them. "I am not an educated man, Mr. Bradshaw. But, by no means am I stupid. Do not try to lie to me." Marluxia pulled his fingers out of the CEO's mouth and licked small drops of blood off them.

Mr. Bradshaw stumbled over his words, trying to spit them out as fast as he could. "I-I-I work for her, sure."

Marluxia hummed. A sign of approval, and an invitation to continue.

"But, I only handle her finances," Mr. Bradshaw stuttered more as Marluxia glared at him. "I-I-I swear! I only know where all her money is!"

Marluxia tsked and wagged a finger as he pulled on his leather gloves. He brushed his pink locks out of his eyes, and sauntered over to Susan with more sex appeal than any woman. He caressed Susan's face, cooing in her ear and nicking it slightly with his teeth. He tasted her blood, and giggled when it tasted just like sugar.

"Diabetes?"

Susan shook her head. She sobbed, but tried to stay as quiet. "Please, don't kill me."

"Susan?" Marluxia asked softly. He sounded just like an innocent child. "Would you tell your lover to not lie to me?"

"He's not my lover," Susan breathed.

Marluxia growled in her ear and whipped around angrily. "Lies. Lies. Lies! Stop lying to me! God damn it!" Marluxia shrank down, cowering by himself, whispering his instructions. "Don't kill them so soon, Marluxia. Get the information I need, Marluxia. Be a good boy,_ Marluxia._"

He regained his composure, and straightened up. He smiled wistfully again, still hiding the monster that lurked just beneath the surface. "Mr. Bradshaw, let me make this clearer for you. You tell me what I want to know, or I will kill your mistress. Is that simple enough for you to understand?"

Mr. Bradshaw trembled. He didn't answer Marluxia right away and not even a moment later, he had the sharp blade of the high tech scythe pressed to his Adam's apple. Marluxia leaned over his desk again. "Am I clear, Mr. Bradshaw?"

Mr. Bradshaw swallowed slowly, feeling the blade cut his skin. "Y-Y-Yes."

"Good." Marluxia flipped his phone open and called Xehanort. He put the phone on speaker and placed it on the desk after sliding all the papers on the floor. The phone's ring was quiet and made the large room feel larger in comparison.

"Hello?"

"Superior," Marluxia said. He pressed the blade closer to Mr. Bradshaw's neck. "I have Mr. Bradshaw here, just like you asked. We have already worked out the terms of his negotiation, and he wishes to speak with you."

"Oh, excellent. Thank you, Marluxia."

Marluxia beamed with confidence. Xehanort was clearly pleased with Marluxia's phone call, and had even hinted at surprise when he had a live human being to talk to. He addressed Mr. Bradshaw directly, his voice become strictly business in tone.

"I'm so sorry we had to meet like this Mr. Bradshaw," Xehanort said. "I would have liked to speak with you face to face, but Marluxia, here, is not competent in the ways of technology."

Mr. Bradshaw opened his mouth, but Xehanort interrupted him. "I would like to hear the terms of your negotiation, if you will."

Mr. Bradshaw cleared his throat. "I am to tell you the truth, or my mistress shall be killed."

Xehanort tutted. "It's a shame you even have a mistress, Mr. Bradshaw. It really is, but beggars can not be choosers in this situation, I suppose."

Marluxia huffed angrily. He was becoming more and more impatient. Xehanort huffed right back. "Now, Marluxia, remember what we talked about. Patience, my good friend."

Marluxia folded his arms and retracted the scythe's blade.

"Now, Mr. Bradshaw." Xehanort said. "Tell me what you know about Someone."

"Well," Mr. Bradshaw swallowed again. His mouth was dry. "Someone is a woman named Aqua. She owns the entire East Coast as far as drugs, guns, and prostitutes are concerned. She is the last of her set."

"Kind sir," Xehanort interrupted rather moodily. "Please tell me something I don't know. I am aware of her reach, as well as her ruthlessness. I know her street name. I want to know her…personally." He paused. "Marluxia, please fetch this man a glass of water. He can not speak with such a dry throat."

Marluxia reluctantly poured Mr. Bradshaw a glass of water and placed it on his desk. Mr. Bradshaw drank it cautiously, keeping his eyes on Marluxia and Susan at the same time. His mind was thinking of a way to get out of the situation with the least amount of harm done.

"What is Aqua's real name?"

Mr. Bradshaw put the empty glass on the desk and rested his arms on the arms of the chair. "Angelina Godfrey."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"Mr. Bradshaw."

"Wait!" The sound of Xehanort's disapproval concerned Mr. Bradshaw, and he quickly came up with a story. "She's on her way to Miami! To meet with an old friend of hers. She'll be back in about a week."

"What is she doing in Miami?"

"Uhh…she wants to send a message to her employees." Mr. Bradshaw stammered. "Only her friend down there knows how to do it without getting flagged by the FBI. She's only going to be there for little bit, but if you let me live, I could get her to you."

"Oh dear," Xehanort mumbled.

Marluxia looked at the phone. "What?"

"He violated the terms of your agreement. Twice." Xehanort said simply. Mr. Bradshaw's heart fell into his stomach. "First, he lied to me. I asked him where Aqua was, and he said he didn't know, but then he told me she was in Miami for a week. Then, he tried to renegotiate the terms by asking me to let him live so he could give us what we're looking for. That was not in your agreement, was it Marluxia?"

"No," Marluxia answered curtly.

"Wait!" Mr. Bradshaw cried. "I have more for you!"

Marluxia extended his scythe's blade again and approached the CEO with excitement in his eyes. They shone brightly, like a child finding his favorite toy in his toy chest.

"You are boring me, Mr. Bradshaw," Xehanort warned. "And quite frankly, I don't have time for your lies, you adulterous prick. Marluxia, you may have him."

"Wait!" Mr. Bradshaw shouted desperately. "Don't you want to know what her message is?"

"You better make it quick, Mr. Bradshaw. You are running out of time."

"It's about the Heartless!"

"Hold on, Marluxia."

Marluxia paused, growling audibly. "Fuck."

"Mr. Bradshaw, impress me."

Mr. Bradshaw rifled through some of his drawers and pulled out a piece of paper from its depths. Marluxia watched him hungrily, wishing he could slice Mr. Bradshaw into tiny pieces. He just knew he would be good for the flowers in his garden, and Xehanort was keeping him from his prize.

"Someone has a message for you." Mr. Bradshaw read. "A KOS has been placed on the Heartless. All associates, affiliates, and subsidiaries are targeted as well. This goes into effect immediately, and anyone found to be harboring Heartless with be killed."

Xehanort instantly perked up. "Oh, well what do you know?" There was the sound of laughter. "Aqua just saved her own life without even knowing it. This is hysterical."

Marluxia didn't laugh. He had no idea what was so funny, but Xehanort sounded happy, and that's all that mattered to him. Mr. Bradshaw chuckled nervously, and Xehanort silenced him.

"Don't be so quick to laugh, Mr. Bradshaw. You made a fatal mistake." Xehanort suddenly sounded serious again. "You knocked Aqua off my hit list. So now, you must take her place."

Mr. Bradshaw turned white.

"Marluxia, I would love to talk with you more, but I believe you will be busy for the next few hours. Please, don't let me disturb you further."

Marluxia smiled and picked up his cell phone. "Thank you, sir." He glanced at Mr. Bradshaw. "Would you like me to save you a piece of him?"

Xehanort laughed. "I love your hostility, my friend. No, you don't have to save anything. You can have him all to yourself. Consider it an early birthday present."

Marluxia giggled and closed the cell phone. Mr. Bradshaw trembled harder, willing himself to run, but finding himself unable to. Marluxia stopped him without having to try, and the man terrified the CEO. Never before had he to face such a horrifying person. Even the hostile shareholders to his company could not compare to the pink man standing before him. He would rather be shot by a firing squad.

"Tell me, _Mr. Bradshaw._" Marluxia whispered. He stood beside the CEO and was pointing at Susan. "Did you know you are about to be a father?"

"W-W-What are you talking about?" Mr. Bradshaw stammered. He glared at Susan. "You're pregnant?"

"I didn't want to tell you!" Susan sobbed. "I thought you would leave me."

"Stupid woman! Do you realize you've gotten us killed?"

"But, it's not due for five months!" Susan cried. "Please, Marluxia! Don't kill us!"

Mr. Bradshaw was about to scream back, but Marluxia stuck his fingers in his mouth again. "Do not talk anymore. Either one of you." He looked at Mr. Bradshaw and drew his scythe across his ankles lightly. "I meant what I said, Mr. Bradshaw. You will be a father today."

Mr. Bradshaw raised an eyebrow. He didn't understand what Marluxia was saying, and didn't move when the demon approached his mistress. Susan was beginning to panic, breathing harder and feeling more and more dizzy.

"Congratulations, Susan." Marluxia whispered. "You're going to be a mommy today."

"What?"

Marluxia took his scythe by its neck and gently touched the steel to Susan's throat. He didn't press it closer because he didn't want to kill her just yet. He was on a mission. As he was moving about the offices of Male Inc., he had discovered that Susan was pregnant, and she was also known as the office slut. He had heard all the speculations about the father of the child, and had discovered that it was, in fact, Mr. Bradshaw's baby.

His disguise had been flawless, and no one had questioned him. But, he was still bothered by the fact that Mr. Bradshaw, while being the loving adulterer that he was, was also a sexual sadist. Just like Marluxia. He had a dick, and used it as threat, and Marluxia hated rapists. Even if the victims were raped by choice.

So, Marluxia felt that it would be the 'right' thing to do to show Mr. Bradshaw that his actions would yield consequences. And those consequences would be forever burned in his eye sockets before he died.

"Susan," Marluxia said softly. "Tell me that you love Mr. Bradshaw."

"I love him!" Susan cried. "I love him so much."

"Enough to let him rape you?"

"He never raped me! Never!" Susan panted. "I love him. He would never do that."

Marluxia giggled. "I'm so sorry that you have to die because he raped you. You seem like my type. You would have loved Central Park."

"Please, don't kill me…" Susan begged. She was so pathetic, that if she hadn't been tied to the chair, she would have been groveling at Marluxia's feet.

"No, don't cry, sweetheart," Marluxia cooed. He wiped Susan's tears away. "Don't cry. Being a mother is about self sacrifice. And there is nothing a rapist hates more, than losing the fruits of his labor. You wouldn't want to give birth to a rapist, would you?"

Susan didn't answer. Mr. Bradshaw's angry, desperate pleas were unheard by the pink demon as he sliced Susan's stomach open. Her intestines spilled out first, and she howled in agony, writhing in place, begging for mercy. Marluxia hushed her, gave words of encouragement as he dug his hands into her guts and moved them around. Susan screamed so loud, her voice left her, and she was left with crying in silence.

Mr. Bradshaw stood up, but his ankles had been cut, and the pain didn't shoot to his head until he stood. He collapsed back into the chair howling with rage. Marluxia had killed his mistress, accused him of being a rapist, and was throwing mounds of salt on his wide open wounds.

Marluxia rooted around in Susan's body until his fingers found a slightly hardened sac. He cut the sac open, and fluid spilled onto his shoes. He had cut open Susan's uterus and severed the umbilical cord to the small fetus that was tucked inside. As soon as the cord had been cut, the fetus struggled, twitching madly in his hands.

Mr. Bradshaw was at a loss for words. He couldn't even scream. Not in rage, not in fear, or in pain. He was shocked by what he had seen, and his soul left his body. Not even his soul could bear the grisly sight.

"You see?" Marluxia laughed. "Do you see what you made? And you could do it because you are powerful. More powerful than any God. You made life." He placed the fetus in Mr. Bradshaw's lap and spun him in his chair. "And I took it away."

Mr. Bradshaw was silent.

"But, now," Marluxia mused. "I have that very same gift. I can make life. And I'm going to take yours as well. But, not without taking what made you such a powerful, despicable monster." He cut the fabric of the CEO's pants and grabbed the penis in between his legs. "You're not going to need this anymore."

With a swift movement, Marluxia severed the man's sexual identity and left it on the desk. He laughed at Mr. Bradshaw's pain, and relished the feel of the blood on his hands. He was in a world of pure bliss, and—had he the ability—he would have jerked-off right there. But, since he had no dick, he was content to cutting every inch of Mr. Bradshaw's flesh and laying him across his beautiful wood desk with his own dick in his ass.

Mr. Bradshaw he begged for mercy, offered money, and attempted to make a deal with the Devil himself. But, nothing would stop Marluxia's onslaught. He had been cut until he bled out. And, when Marluxia couldn't stand the sounds of his screams, he had shoved Susan's fetus in his mouth and listened to the muffled cries of Mr. Bradshaw's desolation.

And that's how he was found the next morning. Beyond recognizable. Easily Marluxia's greatest conquest. But, nobody would know that. Not yet anyway.

* * *

**So...that was long wasn't it? DeadShut informed me that he felt bad for Mr. Bradshaw and Susan. In actuality, they probably did not deserve the fate that befell them, but they were simply accosiated with the wrong people. Let us all take a moment of silence.**

**Has a nice day. :)**

**By the by, I want a challenge from someone. I was thinking about doing a side shot for Aqua, but I'm not feeling any ideas spring to mind. If anyone has a request, I'll see what I can do about writing you a special story. I would like that very much. :) *crosses fingers* Send me your requests!**


	20. Luxord

**Hello, all. DeadShut here. Another longer chapter for you guys. Might as well say it: the character of Jackson Picard (Luxord), is based on Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle, who I love. Enjoy.**

**Haji here. Okay, so because this chapter is so long and covers a variety of different subjects, we need to go about the formatting a little differently. It is broken up into two parts, both of which are posted in the same chapter, but there will be a break inbetween where I will be adding a comment. Now ordinarily I wouldn't do that, but there are a little of 11,000 words. I think you can handle it. :D**

* * *

**Part I: Aroma of Roses**

"Mike," whispered Joe eagerly. "Are you free yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Please, man, c'mon…" cried Joe impatiently. "Who knows when that pink-haired fucker is gonna be back?"

"He hasn't been back for a while, Joe," said Mike through grit teeth as he wrestled to get his right hand out of the bond he was in. He was much skinnier, having been starved something awful for the past couple of days. Their feminine captor rarely visited this room anymore, in whatever building they were in, but only came around once in a while to feed them a slice of bread and some water. The fiend did not know, however, that Mike had been working on his bonds as his wrists grew slimmer overtime. Using his own blood as lubricant, Mike had slipped his left hand out of the bond, and was now halfway through the right.

And once he got out of here, he was going to kill that freaky asshole.

Brandon lay on the floor in front of them, lifeless, his asshole torn to sickening proportions by the Pink-Hair's scythe. What a dumbass he had been, at least in Mike's eyes. He had gotten free…so he was going to stop and fuck his captor, a dangerous murderer, without any thought whatsoever as to freeing his friends? That dick deserved what he got.

"Come…_on_!" Mike growled, and with another hard yank, his hand was released from the rope it had been bound to and he was falling backwards onto his rear. As he got up, muttering, Joe cheered. Joe hadn't been looking so good, Mike noticed. Ever since the pink-haired demon fed him those apple seeds (which were fucking poisonous…who knew?), Mike's friend had gotten very pale. Dark circles clouded his eyes, and his body was glazed in sweat. He was a wreck.

Mike searched the freak's dresser, until he found a very long knife that only a freak like Pink-Hair would own. He cut Joe's bonds, and the man fell onto the floor, sobbing in relief. Mike helped him up.

"We're not out of this yet, asshole. C'mon."

To Mike's surprise, Joe pushed him. _Pushed him_! And pretty hard, too; Mike stumbled backwards into the freak's dresser.

"What the fuck?" asked Mike furiously.

"You sonofabitch!" yelled Joe. "Why didn't you just apologize? He would have let us go!"

"Stop yelling," hissed Mike menacingly. "And I didn't apologize because I ain't no pussy. I could take him."

"_He gave me poison_," said Joe. There was a murderous shine in his eyes that Mike had never seen before. "He gave nothing to you. He tortured me an' Brandon to get to _you_. And you just watched us take it."

Mike stared at his friend, lips pursed. How could Joe blame him? What was he…a little girl? So he had to eat apple seeds and he got a little sick, big whoop.

"Wow," said Mike, disdain lining his voice. "I had no idea you could be such a faggot, Joe."

For five seconds, Joe stared at him. Five seconds. Then he pounced. Literally, the man flew across the room and tackled his former friend, pulling him to the ground. Mike roared and fought back, doing so with ease; Joe was weak from illness, and Mike had gotten the upper-hand rather easily. His meaty fists pounded Joe's frail face twice before Joe jabbed him in the diaphragm. The wind knocked out of him, Mike doubled over, clenching his stomach, tears dripping out of his eyes. Joe stood up and rushed for the door; Mike, with an adrenaline rush, pushed himself to stop his friend from leaving the demon's room, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and throwing him into the wall.

Pinning him against the wall, Mike pulverized his friend painfully, then screamed in pain when Joe's thumb went into his right eye. As Mike cupped his eyeball, Joe gave a swift kick to the groin before running off to the center of the room. Again, Mike recovered quickly and turned to attack his friend, running full-force like a speeding bulldozer, his tears mixing with blood. Joe raised his arm to Mike's stomach, and Mike felt a pulverizing pain in his waist.

He backed away and looked down to see the black hilt of the freak's knife sticking from his stomach. Sticky blood stained his shirt and drenched him. He felt blood rise from his throat and swish around in his mouth as he gaped at Joe.

Eyes bloodshot, skin white, teeth bared, Joe didn't look like a human being anymore, but an animal. He moved forward and wrenched the knife out of his friend's stomach. The pain was unbearable, and the last thing Mike thought of before falling forward and passing away was how he had never seen it coming…never…

Joe, the sole survivor, pocketed the knife, stepped over his fallen friends, and left the room. He walked out into what seemed to be a hotel's hallway, for rooms lined both walls. Up ahead was an elevator, and he rushed towards it silently, making sure to keep the knife ready at his side. He opened the elevator with the push of a button, and inside he found the floor "Lounge".

_Must mean Lobby_, he figured, and pressed the button.

The elevator went down, and the ill Joe rested his head against the door, his mind slowly turning off…soon his descent in the elevator felt like a falling into Hell, and he jumped awake as he dreamed of a large demon's head lolling its tongue, pink tufts of hair covering its bloody scalp. The elevator opened with a _ding!_ and he stepped out to find himself in a room of entirely white. A small den was in the center, and on a black couch in front of a large TV set was a teenaged boy of around eighteen wearing black and white clothes sitting and playing videogames. His blonde hair was gelled into a messy hairdo, and his blue eyes turned from the screen to Joe, and widened.

"Who the fuck are you?" the kid demanded, standing up.

Joe spoke, his voice raspy from sickness, "Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are _you_? Where is this? I'll kill all of you motherfuckers! That pink-haired shithead won't get me! Nuh-uh! No!" He brandished the knife and charged forward.

His mind went into a haze just then, at the worst time it possibly could, and Joe stumbled forward. He felt himself fall upon the blade already warm with Mike's blood, felt it sink into him and pierce his innards. He lay on the floor, blood pooling on top of the white.

The boy was on top of him a moment later.

"Why are you here?" he demanded.

Joe spoke loudly, trying to sound intimidating: "To kill you all!" His vision was starting to darken.

Panic emphasized the boy's voice, "Who sent you? _Who sent you_?"

_That pink-haired bastard is gonna die for this,_ was what Joe wanted to say next, quickly, before he was gone for good, but he only managed to get the first four words out before Death embraced him.

* * *

"That pink-haired bastard…" said the stranger who had clumsily ended his own life. Roxas felt his blood run cold as he stepped away from the body. He desperately needed to tell someone this news. Marluxia? Marluxia, the serial killer who seemed so loyal to the Superior, Marluxia, who acted like a murderous puppy dog…a traitor? _He_ had sent this man to the Labs to, as the stranger had said, "kill them all"?

"Jesus," whispered Roxas. "Jesus Christ…"

He wished someone was here. Everyone else had things to do today, and he was left all alone, here, by himself. Even Saix had business to attend to, and encouraged Roxas to take a day off from his chaotic uprising. Axel was gone, too, wouldn't be back for a couple days, so there was no one.

No one.

Marluxia would be coming back tomorrow morning. Roxas would have to confront him. But first…

Roxas took the elevator up, leaving the body behind. He went up to the Organization's hallway of rooms, and entered Marluxia's. Inside he found a bloodbath. Two bodies, one huge pool of blood. One guy's entire lower half had been torn into. The other man had been stabbed.

This was odd. Both looked like wounds frequently made with Marluxia's scythe…but that guy downstairs had his knife covered in blood. The bigger man's stabbing could have been done using such a weapon. Which would be strange. Why would Marluxia bring these three in here?

Maybe they were just victims. After all, what assassin calls their employer "bastard" like the stranger had?

But, then again, why would he say he was in the Labs to kill all of the Organization? No…Roxas needed to tell Saix about this, or confront Marluxia. Unfortunately, the latter would come first; Saix wasn't due to be back until tomorrow afternoon. Marluxia: tomorrow morning.

He sighed and sat down on the couch, feeling sick. The stress of these risks were taking a toll on him.

* * *

The large van drove down the highway speedily, passing the New Jersey town of Saddle Brooke with haste. It pulled into a Burger King, and Don, dressed as an everyday average guy, went inside to get the rest of the group some food. Goofy walked outside as well, to smoke a cigarette real quick. Kairi had to use the bathroom, so she went inside with Don. Riku was still out cold.

And so Sora was alone with Demyx. He went to him, taking off the mask.

Demyx's eyes were red from either the lack of light or from the pain he was in or from crying. None of these options stirred Sora's sympathies.

"What do you want, kid?" croaked Demyx. "I told you where Luxord is. What more could you possibly do to kill me?"

"Kill you?" repeated Sora. "Kill _you_? Because of you, my parents are dead."

Demyx said nothing.

Sora continued, "You know, I was always a fan of your music. The dedication to nature, the emotion you put into it…I always found you to be very talented. Hell, you even _inspired_ me. And you killed my parents."

"Hey, c'mon," said Demyx. "I didn't kill your parents. I just handed them over to the guys who did."

"You're a part of them. Don't try and get out of this."

"Cut me some slack, man."

"Why? So you can hang me with it?"

"I did what I had to," the musician said stubbornly. "You think you can just resign from Organization XIII? Bull fucking shit, bro. They can be friendly, yeah, but you do what they say or they'll kill you with no hesitation."

"Consider yourself lucky we've brought you out of the city, then."

Demyx barked laughter. "You think they're some little gang grounded in New York, afraid of the authorities like the Heartless are and whatnot? I told you, they're the worst motherfuckers in the world, and you pissed them off with your little Keyblade-fights."

"Ah," said Sora, not daring to show emotion. "So that guy in the mask was a part of you guys, too, huh?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"You've just admitted it either way, so whatever. What happened to my parents?"

"I told you they were killed."

"I know. But how?"

"Experiments," said Demyx. "Were performed on them. They passed away during this process."

"For the virus?"

"Fuck you."

"Want me to get Goofy back in here?"

Demyx sighed, "Yes, for the virus."

Sora looked outside the van. "Goofy's coming back." He put the mask back over the musician's face as Goofy got into the van, hanging up his cell phone.

"I told Mick everything," he said. "He's arranged a flight for Las Vegas. There's more, but hang on." He walked back to Demyx and crowned him on the head with the butt of his gun. Demyx fell face-first, unconscious, and Sora cried in outrage. "Relax. It's just so he can't hear this next part. Mick wants us to find this Luxord-guy, and capture him, too. Then we're bringing both of them back to Mick's penthouse in New York to learn anything we can while Mick's staying there for some business meeting. He will also personally interrogate both of them. This all must be done within forty-eight hours."

"Jeez…But do we still have a warrant out for our arrest?" asked Sora. "We kidnapped _Demyx_, for Chrissake."

"Mick's covered it up as a drive-by, and a replacement-Demyx is 'injured' in the hospital."

"Okay…But what about this 'Luxord'? Anything on him?"

"Demyx said his real name was Jackson Picard. Mick searched him. Born in Ireland, immigrated to Mexico when he was fifteen with Chris and Margaret Picard. Both of his parents were stabbed to death seven years after, and Jackson was a suspect. Eventually he was proven innocent, although there are no records providing the evidence. A year later, he moved to America, and has lived here for eight years. That's all on him."

"Hm. Are you noticing a pattern here, Goof'?"

"You bet your ass. Demyx, Marluxia, Luxord…all nicknames, all with 'X''s in them. A history of killing people, and each with a deep passion for certain things. Demyx: music and water, it seems. Marluxia: killing and gardening. Luxord seems to be in charge of this group's finance, and he's gambling in Vegas, so I can assume he likes money."

"Or just gambling," added Sora. Goofy nodded.

The other two came back, and they all ate in silence as they drove. The trip to the city of Newark lasted about twenty minutes. It was a very Spanish-influenced city and many buildings were beautiful, but the streets were littered with hood-types. They drove to the end of the city, where there was a large airport. Large planes were loudly taking off.

"Huh?" mumbled Riku as he sat up in the van, looking bewildered. Sora looked into his friend's eyes and saw that dazed feeling "Where are we? Sora? Kairi?"

"Oh, thank God," said Kairi, embracing him.

Sora smiled and punched his friend's shoulder.

"What the flying _fuck_ happened to me?" Riku asked. "I can't remember a thing…"

Sora and Kairi quickly explained all that had happened, and Riku sat there dumbfounded.

Don said, "It's great you're back and all, Riku, but we have a mission. We're going to Vegas to get Demyx's partner-in-crime. Demyx is right next to you, by the way. Looks like he's just waking up, too. C'mon, all, get your asses in gear! We have forty-eight hours to do this, so let's do it _quickly_!"

Riku bit his lip, "N-no. I can't, you guys."

Sora and Kairi looked at each other, then at their friend.

Riku stammered, "I c-can't risk going haywire again and hurting you. Plus, I…" he sighed. "I have to talk to someone. I…don't know where she is, but I left her when she needed me most and now I have to go back. I'm sorry. This is something I have to do, before I go nuts again."

Sora nodded; this time, he understood what his friend meant. He looked at Kairi, and saw she did, too. The three of them got out of the van, and parted ways once again. Riku called a bus station as he walked away, and Kairi watched him go through tears. Sora put and awkward, yet comforting arm around her.

They changed into everyday clothes before walking into the airport, with Demyx in the lead. His face was bloodied and bruised, but he walked with an arrogant pride that seemed to piss off Don and Goofy. Thankfully nobody recognized him. He was an underrated musician, but that did not mean he wasn't known by anybody…but even his fans would not notice him with his face swelled in such proportions.

For twenty minutes or so, they sat around drinking coffees, when the intercom of the airport announced the departure to Vegas. They all stood to leave, but while the others walked forward, Kairi pushed Sora back down and kissed him full on the mouth.

Shocked, Sora asked, "What was that for?"

"You looked like you needed it." She smiled at him.

He smiled back, because he _did_ need it.

They walked to the plane, together, holding hands.

* * *

Greg Coy had a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken that he gobbled on ceaselessly as he walked upstairs to his apartment. Some stuck-up bitch walked past him on the stairwell and grimaced.

"'ey, fuck you, whore," he remarked through a mouthful of food. "I'll turn ya' into a prostitute, y'know? I know people. Get da' fuck outta here." He spanked her and she flew down the stairs, sobbing. He grinned in satisfaction. Damn, he loved being a Heartless! He was _king_, no doubt about it!

He reached his floor and walked down the hall. It was quieter than usual today…how odd.

Coy reached his apartment, stuck the key in the lock, and opened the door. All the lights were out inside. He had left them on. Frowning, he flicked the lightswitch. Nothing.

"Damn electric company," he swore as he waddled over to his favorite chair next to the window that looked out into Central Park. He looked towards the window, expecting to see a nice view of his city, but all he saw was a tall figure wearing dark clothing.

And he had _pink hair_…

"Ohoho, shit," cried Coy, and his voice didn't just crack, it _squeaked_. Terror hammered in his chest as the figure pressed the blade of its scythe to his neck. This was the monster who killed everyone at Club Heartless.

"Sshhh," Marluxia crooned. "Shhhh." He pulled out his cell phone and said, "I've got him, sir."

"Wonderful," said Xehanort over the phone. "Now, you're Greg Coy, correct?"

"Y-Yes…"

"You are a Heartless."

"Yes." No sense in lying.

"Where is Diz?"

Coy spoke immediately, "I don't know. I mean it. He sent some of his guys to Miami, but I don't know where he is exactly. I swear on m'mother's grave!"

Xehanort said, "Very well. Who did he send?"

"Um…ummm…"

"_Do you want to live or die, Coy?_"

"Moloch!" Coy screamed. "He sent Moloch, didn't he? And two others guys!"

"Thank you, Coy."

"Go fuck yourself," Coy sobbed. "I hate you bastards so much. I'm telling Diz if I ever see'm, and you guys will regret fuckin' with the Heartless!"

Xehanort said coldly, "Well, you _might_ have lived if you didn't just disgust me with that open threat. Marluxia, do your thing."

"Yes, sir," said Marluxia, grinning as he hung up. He looked down at Coy, who was clutching onto his bucket of chicken like a young child clutches onto a teddy bear, eyes wide with terror.

"I took out most of your power," said the pink-haired fiend in his lofty voice. "Because I had something prepared for you." He walked elsewhere in the apartment, and Coy considered running but decided that he wasn't fast enough. Marluxia came back with a pair of jumper cables.

"What are you going to do with those?" asked Coy fearfully.

Marluxia looked down at them, and frowned. "I'm not exactly sure. They're charged up with a _lot_ of volts, so I figured it'd be fun to shock your ass. However, I've never done this before." He stared at the cables for a little bit like a boy contemplating what to do with his model airplane, and then promptly clipped them onto Coy's eyebrows. Coy jerked and writhed as the volts of electricity ran through him.

"Now, while you're like that…" Marluxia took out a small box of toothpicks from his pocket. "How about I shove these under your toenails? And how about I cram a few into your dickhole? Let's let you go out the hard way."

Although being electrocuted something awful, Greg Coy still managed to scream.

Marluxia snickered.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't be so _coy_…"

The bucket of chicken rolled onto the ground, spilling the poultry everywhere.

* * *

Xehanort hung up his cell phone and went back into Zexion's hotel room. The intellect has his nose in a book like always, and Xaldin was leaning against the window, watching the waves of the Pacific Ocean crash down onto the beautiful shores of Hawaii. They both looked up as their superior walked into the room.

"What news on the Heartless?" asked Zexion, shutting his book on poisonous substances. He had stolen it from the desk of the nearby doctor, where he had gone to get many other supplies.

"It seems Diz's whereabouts are unknown, even by his most trusted. One of his more respectable minions, however, is in Miami with two nameless others."

"His name?"

"Moloch."

"I know of that one. He was good with cameras and the art of cinematography. What the hell is he doing all the way in Miami?"

"Hopefully looking for that other crime lord," said Xehanort, going to the mini-fridge the room came with and taking out an orange-and-cream soda. "The Someone. The girl."

Zexion rested his chin in his hand and pondered. Xehanort loved the way Zexion's eyes would gloss over when he was deep in thought. An individual who chose to live in his mind…how dangerous. And, thankfully, he was on their side. But Xehanort was no fool. He may have treated lesser members such as Demyx or Larxene as employees, but he always made sure to give Zexion his utmost respect. The boy was sharp, perhaps even sharper than Xehanort himself, and although Saix outranked him, Zexion was to be treated with equality from all members of Organization XIII. His thirst for knowledge could not be quenched until he had stepped out of this universe and into Kingdom Hearts. How Xehanort wished to have met this Zeke Fender sooner, when he was still in his glory days, instead of that disposable Vanitas.

"Perhaps we should find this Moloch…" muttered Zexion.

"I'm sending Marluxia."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think it would be wise to merely kill Moloch. I think what we need to do is reserve for a moment and have some spying done."

"What do you have in mind?" asked Xehanort, truly interested. He took a swig of the orange soda and a smile flickered on his face; it was pretty delicious.

Zexion explained, "Send Larxene with Marluxia. Have her tail the Heartless, because after Coy's death today, Marluxia is going to be known by _all_ of them. None of the Heartless know who Larxene is, so she'll observe Moloch and his group. Marluxia will keep an eye on Aqua and whoever she has with her. If a fight is to break out between the two groups, then we'll have Marluxia and Larxene intervene by ridding the world of all of them and whoever witnesses. Aqua's empire will fall apart, and Diz will lose one of the best he's got. It was Moloch who programmed those missiles, along with Coy, yet I'm not sure who exactly fired them, nor am I sure what they fired the missiles _with_. Maybe we can find out."

"Actually," spoke Xaldin, surprisingly. "If you two don't mind, I would very much like to accompany those two. You see, there's this man in Aqua's empire that I have a grudge against. A very outspoken sonofabitch who I vowed I would kill."

"Oh?" asked Xehanort, sitting up. "Who?"

"People call him 'Isa'. I met him in a bar in Manhattan. Let's just say he's got a big mouth and offended me. If he's there, and something goes down, I want to be there to kill him."

"Sir, if I may," interrupted Zexion. "But I recall you saying that Aqua was off our hit list. With the KOS on all Heartless, exactly what could Moloch do to _anyone_ before being killed by the police himself?"

Xehanort said, "The Heartless' criminal enterprise is crumbling. Diz sealed his own fate when he attacked the Monument, although he thinks otherwise. Him and his gang of chronic masturbators are the only ones who don't know of the danger that they're in…that _anyone_ can kill them for a profit from the good ol' government. Once they inevitably collapse, who will they turn to? The only other head in the crime world: Aqua. That does not concern me so much, however. Aqua is not as reckless as Diz, and isn't known for killing thousands of people at a time just to feel like she's made a point…like Diz does. For now, she is not a threat to us. But just because she might not be an adversary doesn't mean I don't want to keep track of her.

"As for Moloch and the others, I'm not sure. Apparently they've been sent to Miami by Diz, so the only logical explanation I can come up with is that they're off to assassinate Aqua. They can do so for all I care, Zexion; Aqua is not a threat to me, so I'm very apathetic about her fate. All I care about now is having Moloch tailed in order to find where Diz is. And then I shall crush him."

"I thought the Heartless were to fall anyways?"

"Yes, and bring how many with them? Diz is stubborn, so I want him dead as quickly as possible. I wouldn't put it past him to issue a hundred massacres across the U.S., killing thousands of future drones we all need in the Organization. We had once thought the Virus could work on the dead, and it turns out we were wrong."

Zexion thought of the Guidos Larxene had slaughtered at Seaside Heights and nodded.

"Sir," said Xaldin apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I'd really appreciate it if I could go to Miami as well. If Isa is with the girl…I want to be the one to kill him."

"Very well, my good friend," said Xehanort, beaming. "We'll get going right now. Zexion, Xaldin and I will be out of your hair-"

"Ah, wait sir," said Zexion. Xehanort turned to face him, because something was wrong with the youth's voice.

"What's wrong?" asked Xehanort. Xaldin stopped at the doorway and turned around, his natural grimace still poisoning his face.

"Er…I was wondering if…if you could possibly take Xion back with you?"

"Why in the world would I do that? Do you not like her? I thought you two would appreciate one another, Zexion…"

"I just can't!" wailed Zexion. He ran his hands through his hair. Xehanort had never seen him look so manic. "I _can't_ have her here, okay? It affects my work deeply."

"Wha…do you have _feelings_ for the girl?"

"No! No, of course not! My God!" Zexion's nose wrinkled in disgust. "She just reminds me of…someone else, okay? I can't think straight when I remember that person. Just…please, take her back."

Xehanort stared at Zexion, lips pursed. Zexion felt like the Superior was looking _through_ him with such intensity. It almost frightened him.

Then, Superior said, "Very well. We'll collect Xion and be on our way home. Good luck here, Zexion. I do feel bad leaving you here all alone."

"I don't mind," said Zexion instantly.

"Alright. Come, Xaldin."

The two men walked out of the hotel room.

Zexion collapsed into his folded arms and cried. He cried until his eyes were blood-red and then, for good measure, cried some more. How could he fee like such shit? How could he possibly let this get to him to the point where it interfered with his life's work? A girl from fucking _high school_. From high school. And here he was, bawling his eyes out over her. And she had no idea…never would have an idea…how much she meant to him. It was irrational. It made no sense. How could he possibly…?

He got a hold of himself and, through uncontrollable sobs, he began to read again. Soon, however, the words on the pages of his book turned into a spring's day on the football field of his old high school.

_Shift…_

It was warm out, the birds were chirping, and everything had just come to life from the dreary winter. The fake grass of the field had a delicious smell when the sun baked down upon it, the smell of warmed rubber. The track surrounded the football field, and that was where Zexion had been jogging his senior year in high school. He was going a little slower than the other students in his gym class, because he was enjoying the beautiful day.

A group of younger girls in short-shorts ran past him, their ponytails flipping around as they jogged. Naturally, Zexion looked at their rear-ends, but stopped once he saw the shining red hair for the first time. The girl who had such a beautiful hue pouring from her head was wearing a white shirt and pink shorts. Her skin was cream-colored, and as she ran past Zexion her head turned. He saw her face and immediately his heart sank into his stomach…little did he know, that's where it would stay to rot for eternity.

The girl slowed down.

"Hi," she said, smiling. Her teeth weren't perfect, but the smile was the most beautiful thing Zexion had ever seen. Her eyes were green and deep with kindness. As she slowed down to run with him, he could vaguely smell the aroma of roses. This made a hot blush creep up into his face.

_What the hell is happening to me?_ he thought giddily.

"H-hi," he stammered. He could barely look her in the eyes.

"What's your name?" the girl asked politely.

"Zeke. Yours?"

"Kairi. It's a nice day out, huh?"

"Oh…yes." And hot, too, oh God, how hot it seemed! "It's very beautiful out."

"It's a nice day to play some games, dontcha think? Do you play any sports?"

Zexion was dimly aware that he and Kairi had slowed down and were walking side-by-side, like a couple taking a stroll through the park. This analogy colored Zexion's face again.

"Oh, no. Not too into sports," he said, and realized that he probably made a mistake. Most girls liked the jock-types, not the know-it-all underachievers.

But Kairi said, "No, I didn't think so. You don't act like one of those Neanderthals."

Zexion laughed nervously.

Kairi smiled. "Well it was nice meeting you, Zeke. Maybe we'll hang out sometime?"

"Sure," he said enthusiastically.

She giggled and ran off to her friends, who were watching and laughing. Not in a mocking way, really, Zexion noticed…more like an anxious laughter. Like they had been pressuring Kairi to talk to him for some time.

As he continued to run past them, he heard Kairi say through giggles, "Shut up, okay? You were right, he _is_ cute…"

Zexion had never felt better in his life…

_Shift…_

Zexion sat at the lunch table he shared with his acquaintances (he rarely considered them friends), staring at Kairi from across the school's cafeteria, laughing as her new boyfriend made a couple of jokes. All the while, Zexion kept thinking _why_, why couldn't _he_ be funny and charming like that…

_Shift…_

Graduation day. His asshole parents didn't bother to show up. His "friends" were all happy he had made it through high school with barely-passing grades. The night air was warm, yet Zexion felt cold inside. He always did, now.

A big ruffian who had also graduated tonight bumped into him.

"Watch yourself, fucking insect," sneered Zexion. He didn't have a purpose for calling this person such a name, but what could he do? Act friendly, even apologize? Why the fuck should he? Who ever apologized to _him_, when the love of his life was in the hands of…

…the person he had just insulted.

Kairi's gorilla-like boyfriend pushed Zexion, hard, in response to the name-calling.

After many months of holding it in, Zexion roared and attacked the kid, overwhelming him and beating him senseless. He felt the hands of many people trying to pull him off, until one soft, long-fingered hand smacked his across the face, hard. It stung where he had been hit, and he pressed his own hands against the numbing pain.

Zexion looked up to see Kairi, breathing heavily, eyes wide with shock.

"Let go of him you…asshole!" she shrieked at him.

All the fight left his body. He couldn't remember what happened next, but he woke up the next morning in his bedroom, pillow stained with his tears.

And he knew he had fucked up permanently.

_Shift…_

No college. No hope. No happiness. Zexion was a Heartless, respected by his fellows for his knowledge in computers. And oh was he heartless. His weak insides had built him a stronger, untrusting exterior, and a despising of…well, almost everyone. How could he offer joy to a world in which he had received none?

People had died because of him, _him_, one year after high school and living in the shittiest apartment in the city. He had altered many lives permanently, but still found no joy. He didn't care about people knowing he was tough enough to best them…he wanted to _do_ something.

Many nights he spent bent in front of his computer, tears pouring down his face, destroying the home systems of thousands of families across the globe, just because he could. But what was he accomplishing?

Seemed like nothing, almost…

_Shift…_

The telephone rang. Surprisingly. He never had any calls. He rushed to the phone…

"You are an intellect with much potential. With you, I can change your life forever. With you, I can make you a god," said Christopher Xehanort softly.

The voice reassured young Zexion.

"Okay."

"Shall you join my Organization? You'll be number six…"

"I will."

He did…

_Shift…_

When he was done reminiscing, Zexion closed his book again and decided to take a shower. It was that time of day to at least _attempt_ to wash these bad memories away.

He scrubbed to no avail.

* * *

Although close to midnight back on the East Coast, here in Nevada the sun was setting into the sandy horizon of the deserts surrounding this beautiful city of lights and luck. Sora had been to Times Square, but he had never seen such beauty in human architecture before looking at the streets of Las Vegas. He suddenly felt like a big-shot.

_Hell_, he thought with some amusement. _I'm even here with Demyx! I _am_ a big-shot!_

Goofy saw Sora's awe and said firmly, "Don't get too wowed, okay? We have a mission to do. In and out." He turned to Demyx, who was looking at the city with a look of reproach and pushed him roughly on the shoulder. "Don't fuck this up, pretty-boy. You lead us to him. Remember: until we catch your little friend Picard, here, we're your bodyguards."

"My bodyguards consist of a little teenaged asshole and his fire-crotch girlfriend?" sneered Demyx.

Goofy growled, "Hysterical. Kairi will be your traveling agent, Sora your equipment caretaker."

"And when everyone in the casino Luxord is in sees you're all carrying weapons?"

"They won't," assured Goofy. "Now let's get a move on, shall we?"

The group of five hailed a taxi, only to find it being used by a family of three. Only two seats remained.

"Fuck," swore Don. "Alright, Sora. You and the rock star will go in this one. We'll get another one and meet you at the casino, which is called the Golden Lion. It won't look like much, but whatever. You'll recognize it. We'll be right behind you, alright?"

"Alright," said Sora, hopping into the cab with Demyx. He closed the door behind him and said to the driver, "To the Golden Lion, please."

One of the three they shared the cab with asked, "_Donde esta el _Golden Lion?"

"_No hablar espanol_," said Sora apologetically. "_Hablar ingles_?"

"_No_…"

Sora nodded, uncomfortably squeezed between Demyx and the three. Eventually the group became claustrophobic, and they told the also-Spanish cabdriver to pull over and let them off. Sora stared at Demyx, who looked paranoid. His sweat-coated skin had gone white, and there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He was a nervous wreck.

"Why," asked Sora incredulously. "Would you get into this kind of shit if you knew you'd be screwed over if you decided it wasn't for you?"

"It's for me," defended Demyx. "Who are you to say it's not?"

"I like to think I'm a good person. I like to think we're _all_ good people. But I also think you just got caught up in something you might not have fully wanted to."

"If you think all people are good, kid, you have a lot to learn about the world."

Sora said nothing.

Demyx continued, "The pink-haired motherfucker who helped me take your parents…"

"Marla Shift."

"That's right. You know what his job is right now? To kill or mutilate any enemies of our Organization. Do you think he winces when he does it? Do you think he even gives a _damn_? Of course not. He's a monstrosity."

"And yet you work with him still."

"Whatever, I don't mind, per se. It's all working towards the greater good. _Our_ greater good."

"Organization XIII," said Sora.

"Yeah."

Sora leaned forward in his seat. "You said you were trying to make it to 'Kingdom Hearts'. What is that?"

"I won't talk about that." The rock star shifted in his seat. "Not that."

"Fair enough," said Sora, sighing. "You have another member with one of these, don't you?" He wielded the Keyblade and waved it near Demyx's face. Demyx said nothing. "I was attacked by someone with two." Demyx still said nothing. "I think it was someone from your group. But he was masked, so I haven't a clue who he is or what he looks like. That means so far, I know your leader…Xehanort. I know Marla Shift, or _Marluxia_, as you call him. You and Luxord. Whoever that masked guy with the Keyblades was…and Ryan Hall."

Demyx looked at Sora, shocked.

Sora smiled. "Surprised? So am I…who is he?"

"Who is who?"

"Ryan Hall."

"I don't…"

"We'll eventually get you to talk anyway, so you might as well tell me before the information is fucking _beaten _out of you."

Demyx scowled and said, "He's the newest member, and the youngest. Maybe just a bit older than you. You remind me of him, just through your mannerisms. Hell, you two even _look_ alike. You related to him?"

"No, of course not."

The cab turned at a less-lit street. Many of the buildings appeared rather ramshackle, and there were some shady-looking people walking the sidewalks here. They approached a square, brick building with a small black sign that read "The Golden Lion" in very fancy lettering. Exquisitely-dressed men were standing at the front door, and there was a line to get in.

Sora and Demyx got out of the taxi, and Sora stopped the rock star short when he tried to walk in.

"What the fuck?" demanded Demyx.

"We wait for the others, first."

* * *

**Haji here. You should probably take a break now. Close your eyes for like...ten seconds. You are really going to need it now that things have grown so far out of proportion. You relaxed? Good. You may move on now. :)**

* * *

**Part II: Pick a Card, Any Card**

Senator Mick followed Everett through the police department, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth like a lollipop. A trail of smoke followed him as he walked past the desks and cubicles of New York's finest. Many of the officers turned their heads when they saw him walk through, and they muttered to each other things like "Is that him?", "Yeah, I think so…", "Does Everett want us to go with them…?", "Holy shit, that's the guy after the Heartless!", and "Who's he here for?".

Everett said, "I promise you, Senator, this guy's the best around. Responsible for arresting over forty Heartless members, and the killer of twelve Heartless who came at him shooting." They walked towards an office, and Everett opened the door. "Sir…meet Detective Judas Braig."

In this private office there was a man sitting at his desk, tossing a ball up and down as he casually leaned back on his chair. His skin was tan, his face beardless. His eyes glowed with a dark merriment. Underneath his dress clothes was a tough, muscular body. The guy couldn't have been any older than thirty-five. As Mick entered, Everett left the room and shut the door behind him. Mick took a seat in front of the Heartless-killer's desk.

"So," said Mick. "You're the famous Braig."

Braig said nothing, but he grinned, showing perfect teeth.

_This guy's not just a hero, he's a damn supermodel_, thought Mick, somewhat impressed.

Braig then spoke, his voice calm and reassuring, "Famous? That's a bit of a stretch, Senator. But, hell, I'll take it. What is it that you want from me today?"

"I want to ask you about some things."

"Alright, Senator. Shoot."

"Now, as I take it, you've had many incidents regarding the Heartless. So many that you've been promoted to the head of their case. You're the guy in charge of finding them, the highest-ranking Heartless hunter in Manhattan."

"You make me blush, Senator," said Braig as he stood up to go to his cabinet. From there, he pulled out a bottle of Scotch. "Care for a drink?"

Mick nodded and continued as Braig poured the alcohol, "In your constant struggle with the Heartless, I'm sure you know more about them than anyone else."

"That's very true."

"So, first thing's first; with the hunting of Heartless now a public past-time, are there any big-time ones I should be worried about?"

"Funny you should say that," said Braig. He put the glasses on the table, then went to his filing cabinet and pulled out a manila folder full of pictures. Mick looked down and saw that they were of an overweight dead man, horribly mutilated, a look of terror in his face.

Braig explained, "The thing you're looking at _used_ to be Gregory Coy, one of Diz's closest and most trusted advisors. He was just found, dead, today. As you can see, his body was horribly mutilated, and our experts claim that he was ripped apart while still alive."

"Jesus," said Mick, feeling sick. "Who could have done this? And with what?"

"A blade, maybe. That's what most here seem to think. As for the _who_, we don't know. Coy was a fucking loyal Heartless, so it makes no sense for him to be killed off by his own teammates."

"One of the people hunting for the reward?"

"That makes no sense; if they wanted the reward, they would have turned him in, dead or alive. What's _really_ strange is that we found this at the scene of the crime…" Braig opened up his desk drawer and pulled out a small plastic bag.

Inside was a small, pink, pretty flower.

Mick's body went numb as he whispered, "Oh, shit."

"Sir?"

"Braig, what I'm about to ask you and tell you next is not to be repeated by you anytime soon. As high-ranking as you are, I'm in the lead of the _entire_ Heartless-case. If you repeat _any_ of this, I can have your life ruined, and you'll be behind bars getting ass-raped by some motherfucking thug named Bubba as soon as I can get you there. And, believe me, I _will_ know if you've talked."

Braig's eyes clouded with fear. "Hey, okay. I get it. I won't say anything. You can trust me, Senator. I want the Heartless gone for good."

Mick nodded and downed his Scotch. When he was done, Braig loyally filled the glass back up, close to the rim.

"Detective, I have recently been given the information about a couple cases of homicide and kidnapping. Apparently, there are a group of scientists and madmen striving to breed a disease that could possibly wipe out the majority, if not all, of the population. My agents managed to find one of them, who is the musician Demyx."

"Never heard of him."

"Doesn't matter. They are off, right now, to find another member of this group, named Jackson Picard, alias being 'Luxord'. Another is Marla Shift, the serial killer, who I believe killed this man Coy amongst others. As for the leader…well, I need some information on him. You _must_ have heard _something_ about him."

"Okay…who is he?"

"Christopher Xehanort."

Braig shook his head slowly. "No, the name doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid. But this group interests me. Marla Shift, you say? That fucker's out of prison? Fuck me sideways…anyways, how are these people in relation to the Heartless? Aren't the Heartless more of a threat?"

"If these guys have _one_ serial killer destroying the Heartless' most important associates, I would assume so. Plus, forgive me, but I have a feeling about them. They're not like the Heartless, who specialize in just computers and weaponry and are trying to prove they're on top…this organization Shift is a part of is made up of people with a _goal_."

"Which is…?"

"That's why I want your help, Braig. My agents are bringing Demyx and Picard back here to Manhattan in a little less than a day. I want you to help us interrogate them."

"Why me?"

"Because you seem like a genuinely good guy to me."

"Aw, shucks, Senator…"

"I mean it, man," Mick laughed. "You and I have had a common enemy for a while. But now there's someone else, someone _new_, and I think they might have a lot more in store for the world than a broken monument."

Braig nodded.

"Meet me at my penthouse when I call you. And, in case anyone might've heard this conversation…" He looked Braig right in the eyes. "Stay off the streets at night, Detective."

"Okay."

The Senator closed the door behind him, leaving Braig giddy with excitement at the thought of a new enemy for him to vanquish.

* * *

The Golden Lion was a place for serious gamblers to come and stray away from the tourists who walked around the heavenly buildings of light; they practiced their art in this three-star pub. While grand casinos had huge theaters, the Lion had a pianist playing cheery tunes. While the grand casinos had clubs, the Lion had a bar with one bartender. But one thing that the Golden Lion _did_ have that the big-time casinos did not was Las Vegas' best gambler.

Sora knew Luxord right when he saw him. He was not sure what gave it away: it was either the flashy white tuxedo he was wearing, the mouth full of gold teeth, the confidence and charisma of the man, or the fact that he was shuffling cards in the most entertaining way possible. Cards flew over his head in a stream, from one hand to the other. As those he was playing with left the table for a moment to get a drink, he picked up three cards; one card was lightly thrown up, and he used the two others to smack it back and forth, keeping it in the air. After a bit of this juggling, Luxord let the card fall onto his forearm, and it slid forward into his hand.

Luxord turned when he saw the five of them enter the pub, and cried out happily, "Dem! Good to see ya' mate! Hunka' down! T'ose pussies ain't gonna gamble with the Luscious Lux!"

Sora could see that Demyx was worried sick, but still the rock star managed to smile.

"You? Luscious? My ass, dude. When was the last time you got any pussy?"

"When was the last time _you_ actually got a hit single?"  
"_Touché, mon colleague_," said Demyx.

Luxord stared at Sora, Kairi, Donald, and Goofy up and down one at a time before asking his apparent partner, "Who're these clowns?"

Demyx laughed and said, "The big guys are my bodyguards. The girl's my travel agent, and this fuggin' kid here takes care of my shit. Little fucker sucks at his job, though, lemme tell ya'."

"That so?" asked Luxord. He was not smiling. He looked at Sora, and Sora had never felt so intimidated before. The gaze was harsh, feverish. "You a gambling man, kiddo?"

"N-no," stuttered Sora.

"Even if you're not, maybe you an' I could play some roulette, ol' Russian-style. And, with luck on m'side, you'd have a bullet in your head by the end o'the night. That is, if you keep fuggin' around when you're supposed to be doin' yer job for m'friend. Ya' dig?"

"Y-yes."

"Good. Glad we understand each other. Now, if you'll excuse us, Dem and I have some things to talk about…"

"Actually," said Demyx loudly, looking worriedly at Goofy, whose teeth were bared. "I don't feel like talking business, my dude. Let's say we go out to a club? We'll talk about all that useless shit tomorrow. Now's the time for partying. I didn't fly to fucking Nevada to talk about financial shit that I don't even understand."

"You sure?" asked Luxord. "The Big Guy won't be pissed?"

"Believe me; the Big Guy won't know a thing."

Luxord's face lit up. "Alright! There's this small club down the street, 'as a shit-ton of women! Maybe even _you_ will get some tonight, Dem!" He cackled.

Demyx forced a grin. "Can my employees come?"

"Sure, if d'ey pay!"

Demyx looked at Goofy, who nodded grimly.

The rock star turned to the gambler and whispered, "Lead the way."

* * *

Xion sat on one of the cushiony seats of _Lindworm_, thinking about Zexion. When she had been assigned to accompany him, she had been excited, thinking she was about to make a new friend. But Zexion wasn't like that. He didn't have friends, perhaps didn't want any. But for some reason, he gave off a vibe that was almost like a desperate call for help. Why would that be?  
_Maybe Roxas will know_, she thought gloomily, but doubted it. Zexion and Roxas were certainly not on good terms.

What was wrong with Zexion? Why was he so mean?

She swallowed back tears. Naturally an emotional girl, she wasn't fond of apathy or nonchalance…attributes that defined Zexion.

The Superior noticed this as he happily walked around the plane, and sat next to her, concerned.

"What's wrong, pixie?" he asked. She felt his strong arm go around her.

"It's just…it's Zexion, sir. Why doesn't he want me to help?"

"Ah," said Xehanort, pursing his lips. "That, sweetheart, is something I cannot be sure of. Zexion is a complex individual, and by far more different than the rest of us. He seems to be in some sort of internal struggle, but that's what fuels his fire, Xion. Whatever is going on up in his ol' noggin is what causes him to strive to know how things work, and how to manipulate them to benefit himself…and us. We don't all have to get along…we just have to tolerate one another as we get the job done."

"But why would someone hide their feelings like that?" asked Xion, now puzzled.

"Perhaps he's not intentionally hiding them," suggest Xehanort. "He could just be stuck on how to ask for help."

"I don't get it," said Xion stubbornly. "How can someone so intelligent not be able to figure himself out?"

Xehanort smiled and looked out the window, out into the great blue ocean underneath them, and said, "What bigger mystery is there than humanity?"

Xion looked at him, saw his smile, and returned it. She suddenly felt a lot better.

She wondered if the same could be said for Zexion…

* * *

_Dear Felix,_

_We're sorry to inform you of your grandfather's passing away. We found his body in his home, with all of his devices still in place with the exception of two. By the looks of it, he was shot to death. His meeting with the doctor Christopher Xehanort possibly has a connection. We're not sure. Hopefully, this does not interfere with our business. You are, by far, the best smuggler in America, and your family has been in our service for over forty years. We value your contributions, and we value you, Felix, very much. If you wish to find your grandfather's belongings, we are afraid that you must come to Italy…for now, all we could send is a container of fluid that we were not sure what to do with. Your grandfather was working tirelessly on it, however, before his untimely death. He called it "Void", and since he always proclaimed it was one of his finest creations, we deemed it appropriate to pass it onto you. _

_May your grandfather, Victor Vanitas, rest in peace,_

_The Scapelli Family_

Felix Vanitas stared at the letter, a frown playing on his mouth. He had found this in his mailbox, in front of his home at Seaside Heights, along with a package wrapped in brown paper. When he saw it was from his family's long-time employers, the Scapelli crime-empire (which was placed in Italy) he immediately opened up the letter, right on his front lawn.

So the old man was dead. Pity. But not so much. If the bastard had a lot of things he left behind, Felix wanted them. He knew his grandfather was a helluva weapons-maker, despite barely knowing him personally. But, hell, since his parents had died, Felix was the last in the Vanitas-bloodline.

Perhaps it was time to move on from smuggling for that shitheap Scapelli and continue the legacy that was his family.

He opened the package, and sure enough, resting on a pillow within the box, was a glass container full of a black slime with swirls of red inside.

Frowning, Vanitas brought it into his home; he didn't want his neighbors, Cloud and Namine, to see.

* * *

The six of them sat in a row at the bar: Sora, then Kairi, Don, Goofy, Demyx, then Luxord. This club's interior was almost entirely covered in neon. Many girls were dancing exotically to loud, pounding rave music that blared from the speakers of the DJ, who was jumping up in the air with the beat. It was a very fast-paced place, incredibly different from the atmosphere of the Golden Lion. Sora and Kairi had gotten in using the fake ID's Mick had whipped up for them, and since they had both matured so very much through this adventure of theirs, it was no surprise that they could pass as young adults. Both of their faces were young, yes, but hardened from war and loss.

Unfortunately, to avoid suspicion, they had to drink. Sora didn't really like beer, so he made a couple of faces as it swished around in his mouth, but Kairi was an experienced drinker, and she did just fine on her own.

With the taste of beer on his breath, Sora turned to her and said, "I'm worried about Riku."

"Me, too. But it's his nature, Sora. He's a street rat, a hood. He has debts to pay, so he can be free and fight the Heartless."

"Or the Organization," Sora mumbled.

"Or just both."

"Yeah…"

She smiled at him. He smiled back. Then, suddenly, he laughed; inspiration had just struck him.

"What?" she asked, grinning. "What is it?"

He looked at the dance floor and indicated it. "Wanna dance?"

Kairi looked completely taken aback as she said in a hushed voice, "We're on a _mission_, Sora!"

"It's just for one song." He grabbed her hand and pulled her over. "C'mon."

The four men, both on opposite sides of a war yet sitting with each other and having a couple drinks, watched the young couple go.

Luxord asked, rather obnoxiously, "Oi, so he's boinkin' 'er, then? Damn shame, I reckon…I wanted a go at that pink stink. Redheads always blow t'best." He hiccupped. He was beyond drunk.

Goofy growled to Don under his breath, "When are we gonna do this? I'm getting anxious, now."

"Anxious about what?"

"About Picard here saying something so fucking stupid that I'll punch him in the nose, being unable to contain myself."

"Have more alcohol then, my friend. We'll detain Luxord as soon as we leave the pub."

"Tell me, barkeep," called Luxord, rolling a quarter across his knuckles. "You a gambling man?"

The bartender smiled and said, "Sure. What's the bet?"

"Heads, me. Tails, you."

"Ha, you serious? Alright. Twenty bucks."

Luxord flipped the coin and caught it on his wrist. Heads.

"Pay up, mate," said Luxord, grinning.

The bartender laughed and did so. Then he said, "C'mon, man. Double or nothing?"

"Aye, if you want. Make the bet."

The bartender said, "I'll bet that you can't flip a coin into that girl's beer right there." He nodded towards a pretty blonde down the bar table some, who was texting while a pitcher of beer rested in front of her.

Luxord smiled and said, "It's a bet, mate." After a couple more tricks with the silver disc, he rested it on his folded thumb and flicked it forward. It went through the air like a bullet, hit the rim of the pitcher of beer, and fell in with a tiny splash. The girl was none the wiser.

"Holy shit!" cried the bartender, again opening his wallet.

Luxord smiled easily. "Luck's on meside, mate. Just as' Dem, here."

Demyx smiled weakly.

"Have a couple'a more goes at the liquor, Dem. You look like the wratha God, ya' hear?"

"I hear you, brotha" said Demyx. Truth be told, he felt sick. The beer was just colliding with his nerves, and he felt the need to vomit. But he didn't dare get up to go to the bathroom; that would probably just make it harder on him when the second interrogation began. And when Xehanort came to pick them up from these stupid fucks, the _real_ bad shit would begin. They would end up riding crucifixes or something if Xehanort wanted to deal with them personally…or perhaps be Vexen's new guinea pig, or Zexion's…or, even worse, be brought to Marluxia and suffer unimaginable horrors.

His stress was slightly relieved when he saw a group of very pretty girls walk up to him.

"Hi," said one, looking slyly at him. "Aren't you, um, that singer-guy? Demyx?"

"Yep," he said, smiling.

"Oh my gawd! Nikki! Text Amy! Sorry, my friend just _loves_ you and your music. Could you sign something for us, please?"

"Sure," said Demyx, grinning. Why oh why couldn't these bimbos see the _fear_ in his eyes? He picked up a napkin…

…and suddenly he had an idea. A brilliant idea.

He looked at the two cock-holstering agents, and saw they were talking to one another in whispers. No doubt plotting to take Luxord.

Demyx grabbed another napkin and, Luxord watching him, he wrote down on one of the napkins.

"Wait, no," he said, troubled. "That's not right. See?" He showed Luxord, who looked at it before Demyx crumpled it up and threw it into the trashcan behind the counter. He then worked on the other one, this time writing his signature. The girls thanked him and left, and Luxord stared at him through widening eyes. Demyx nodded and took another sip of his drink.

The first napkin had read, "_They are not my agents. I am a hostage. Help._"

* * *

"Wow," commented Sora as they entered the suite an hour later. "Thanks so much for letting us stay here overnight, Mr. Luxord."

"Any time, mate, any time," said Luxord, beaming.

The room he had gotten for all of them was in one of the finest hotels in Las Vegas, with a splendid view over the entire city. Sora had been very impressed, even when he was outside in front of the place, where there had stood a great water fountain. They could even see it from this room's large windows.

Don said to Luxord, "If you don't mind, sir, we want to stay in the room with Demyx. You never know what drunken maniac is going to come in."

"Paranoid type, eh? That's a'ight," said Luxord, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "I always knew Demyx liked to sleep with men."

"Fuck you, Lux," said Demyx, laughing. "And goodnight. We'll talk business in the morning. I think then we'll have the time."

"Hell yeah we'ill," remarked Luxord. When the rock star and his two "bodyguards" had left to one of the rooms, he turned to Sora and Kairi and said, "You two look starved t'death. Want a bite t'eat 'fore bed?"

"Sure. Thank you," said Sora, a bit too enthusiastically. Kairi shot him a dark look, and he shrugged, uncomfortable.

Luxord went to the fridge of the hotel room while his guests took a seat by the window, which was high above-ground. The sight was so beautiful to Sora, and he turned to look at Kairi staring down at it, how the lights reflected in her green eyes. He reached his arm out and held her hand. She gave him a soft smile.

Even if they weren't officially dating and doing this in secret, it felt a lot like love.

"What is it about you that I like so much?" asked Kairi, half-kidding.

"My good looks?" suggested Sora, smiling slyly. "My charm?"

Suddenly serious, Kairi replied, "No…I think it's your courage. That's something worth admiring."

Sora blushed.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Awww, how sweet. Too bad ye' won't be alive long enough to enjoy this moment," said Luxord.

Sora and Kairi turned to see Luxord holding a heavy pistol in his hand, pointing it right at Sora's head. His golden leer was hellish, would make even the Devil recoil in shock and fear. Someone so happy-and-go-lucky should never have such an expression…and that's precisely why Luxord had it on.

Trying to keep his cover, Sora said, "What the-? What're you doing, man? Put that thing away!"

"Cut the shit, kiddo, it's done an' ova' with," said the gambler darkly. "You ain't Dem's agents, you work for someone else, and befo' I kill ye', I wanna know…who?"

Sora stared into Luxord's eyes, those two oceans that chilled a clearly feverish mind. He pursed his lips, and said nothing. If this man was in alliance with Marla Shift, then giving away Mick's name would put the Senator in immediate danger.

_If you don't tell him, he'll kill you!_ Sora's mind panicked, but he dismissed it. Kairi admired his courage…if he was to die, he would do it with honor and bravery, not snivel and cry to keep himself alive while his friends were killed by these evil men.

"I will not tell you," said Sora.

Luxord raised the gun, eyes narrowing.

"I mean it," reassured Sora. "If you want me dead, kill me. I'm not going to speak a word to you, or anyone."

"Fine then. I'll deal with ye' girlfriend. You can save 'er a spot in Hell," breathed Luxord. Sora saw the finger squeeze the trigger and closed his eyes, bracing himself for Death, but it did not come. There was a gunshot, but it didn't hit Sora at all. He opened his eyes.

Goofy and Luxord were struggling with each other over the gun like savage animals, punching and tearing at anything they could find that belonged to their adversary. Even though Goofy was a trained fighter, Luxord was bigger than him, and perhaps knew some tactics in the art of _dirty_ fighting, for Sora saw the gambler's hand grab at Goofy's crotch, squeeze, and then twist. Goofy cried out in pain and Luxord separated himself from him, pistol in hand. Sora saw the gambler aim it at Kairi, and Sora rushed over and pushed her out of the way; the bullet soared above them as they fell, and the window overlooking Vegas shattered. A cold draft entered the hotel room, but Sora was convinced that he was suddenly in Hell.

Then Luxord was on top of both of them, his long arms pushing and shoving them apart and Sora felt Kairi slip from his arms and into Luxord's. He screamed, "NO!" and scrambled to his feet, his heart racing.

Luxord stood, holding Kairi near the broken window, his lips pulled back into a snarl.

"You fuckas talk!" he demanded. "Or I'll throw this ginger whore right out the fuckin' window! _Who sent you_?" Spittle flew from his mouth.

Sora and Goofy, both bloodied and bruised, looked at each other. Both were men of war, and both saw the look of desperation in each other's eyes. Goofy wanted this man, and Sora wanted Kairi. It was a horrible situation, and Sora realized that this man and his Organization would be the death of them all. They were the fools who tried first to tackle these powerful men, and now they were going to pay the ultimate price…

Wait. Luxord was doing something now…stumbling, perhaps? He looked dizzy, confused. He burped and then gave a small retch. Kairi's foot hit the edge of the window frame. She looked down at the marvelous height and squealed. To reassure himself he still had a hostage, Luxord pulled her away a bit, enough to get her back onto the floor. He looked pale, sickly.

The gambler bent over instinctively and gave another retch. Immediately, Sora made a move forward, and Luxord saw it. Panicking, the gambler took a step back and fired, but the shot missed by a yard. Sora moved closer, and the horribly-drunk Luxord took another step back only to find that there was no floor there. The cruel gambler fell backwards, almost bringing Kairi with him if Sora hadn't been there to pull her away from the madman. Holding each other, Kairi and Sora watched in horror as Luxord plummeted from his hotel room and down to his death within the very fountain Sora had admired as they entered this place. The man's overconfidence with a mixture of alcohol had caused his demise and that fatal step.

One could say he was very unlucky at that moment.

Don ran into the kitchen, his nose pouring blood, a cut above his left eyebrow.

"Where the hell were _you_?" cried Sora. "We could've used your help!"

"Demyx," said Don grimly. "Goofy and I saw Luxord pull the gun out on you guys, and Demyx grabbed me and started pummeling me. Looks like they planned to kill us somehow. I got the better of him, though, and he's tied up in the bedroom. Where is Luxord?"

"Dead," said Sora without a single shred of pity.

Don frowned with confusion, then looked at the broken window and his mouth fell into a gape of horror.

"He…he fell?"

Sora nodded and said, "And we better get the Christly fuck out of here before the authorities show up. We need to get back to Manhattan, before Demyx leads us into even _more_ danger. We need to have _someone_ to interrogate…Fuck, this sucks. We really needed as much info as we could get…"

Goofy went to the kitchen table and tipped it over in a fury.  
"_SHIT_!" he screamed, his face red.

Kairi burst into tears. Sora held onto her.

He was suddenly very afraid. Below this building, inside a water fountain, was Jackson Picard, member of Organization XIII, a bloody mess.

And that would certainly anger the other twelve.

The lights of the city didn't seem so beautiful anymore. Nothing did.

* * *

**So, there you go. Another huge chapter, compliments of DeadShut. Make sure you thank him. He worked really hard on this. So, now that you've had your fix for today, and proably for a week afterwards, I'm off to deliver you the next thrilling chapter. It might take approximately a week to finish, though I'll try to keep the word count under control. Unless you want another 10,000 word plus chapter. Let me know what you think.**

**Anyway, we have things to do, people to see, places to be. So, in all...**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :D**


	21. Two Red Birds in Miami

**Hello again. Here's your fix. Thought you needed it. ;)**

**By the way, DeadShut picked a very nice song to give to me as a present, and he says it's a good song to kind of get the feel for the Organization XIII. It's called "DLZ" by TV on the Radio. Go listen to it real quick, then come back. Sadly, it only counts for the Organization's parts. Boo. :(**

**And for Shameless Self-Promoting-brought to you by Haji! DeadShut just wrote a wonderfully witty one shot called _The Table of Villians. _Read it biatches. And I just started a new story called _Gods Without Wings. _Go check out both right after you're done reading this and be further entertained. Okay, shamelessness is over for now.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Roxas had been contemplating what he had seen, with the nameless stranger who had claimed to come to kill them all. On behalf of Marluxia. Things weren't adding up to him, since Marluxia would never do anything to betray Superior, nor would he allow any victims to escape if that's what they truly were. Roxas had been there long enough to know that Marluxia's victims never escaped.

And nobody was there. He was alone, with three dead bodies. Roxas panicked because Marluxia would return any minute, probably tired and pissed off. He rushed to gather the dead man in the lounge, and dragged him back to Marluxia's room, hoping that he could make it look like nothing happened. He scrubbed the blood as best as he could with straight bleach when he decided he had to at least let somebody know what he had seen.

He tore his clothes off and threw them away, jumping into the shower and scrubbing his skin raw in hopes that he would be able to get the smell of blood and bleach off him. His heart fluttered in his chest, and he had no idea why he was so terrified. Nobody had seen anything except for him, and nobody was any the wiser. So why was he so scared?

Probably because it was Marluxia.

He trembled as he flipped his cell phone open and called Axel, the only person he would dare to disturb. After two rings, Axel answered in a hushed whisper, clearly angry about something.

"What is it, Roxas?" Axel hissed softly. "I'm kind of busy."

Roxas paused, not being able to think clearly. "Marluxia…"

"What about him?"

"He…" Roxas swallowed. Why was this so hard for him?

"Listen, Roxas," Axel huffed. "Whatever it is you're smoking, save some for me and chill out. I'm busy right now, and I can't afford to let you fuck me up. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"But—"

It was too late. Axel had already hung up the phone, and Roxas was met with a cold dial tone. He closed his phone and tears welled in his eyes. He had to think of something—anything—that could help him protect himself in case Marluxia decided to finish off the Organization. He paced around his room, constantly glancing at the clock, listening for any sound of Marluxia's arrival when something occurred to him.

Though Zexion hadn't been a very understanding teacher, he stressed one thing above all else in his teaching of _The Human Mind. _And that was that knowledge was your best defense against any kind of threat. The more you know about your enemies, the better you can devise your plan of attack. So, now he had to gather information.

He made his way back to Marluxia's room, covering his nose. The smell of the bodies was overpowering. They were beginning to rot, and the odor could drop anyone without a strong stomach. Roxas kicked the freshly killed body out of his way as he opened Marluxia's numerous drawers and rifled through them.

There wasn't much. Knives, forks, spoons, and a whole host of common household items that Roxas was sure were used for torture. Papers with unintelligible script on them, possibly directions for their assassination. And several prescriptions for Zoloft. Roxas looked at them and processed this information, trying to develop a better profile of the pink demon. Just like Zexion had of him during his studies.

The labels read Marla Shift, and they were all empty, save for one, which was half full. Roxas pocketed the half full bottle and closed all the drawers behind him as he finished with them. He moved around Marluxia's room, opening drawers and cabinets and taking anything that looked like it could be useful to him later.

He opened another drawer and found a folder in it. It was blood stained, and had several fingerprints trailing across it, and it was thick. Fat with piles of information in it. Roxas guessed that it was Marluxia's Organization file. He hefted it, and opened to the first page. He noted Zexion's neat handwriting lined the paper, giving it a certain finesse that he wasn't sure Marluxia was capable of. It was his profile.

_Marluxia is the eleventh ranked member in the Organization XIII, and possesses no scientific credentials. He has been accepted into this family, choosing freely to discard his previous life as Marla Shift, the serial killer. His name originates from the combination of his first name with the name of his favorite restaurant, where he would frequently loiter for days on end, though the reasoning behind this has not been revealed. His role in the Organization is as follows: He is to be considered the assassin. He will be sent out on the behalf of Xehanort and Xehanort alone to complete assassinations, collect subjects for Vexen's tests, and send violent messages to the general public using the Heartless as a cover. He is under no circumstances to listen to any other member of the Organization unless specifically directed by Xehanort in person, or over the phone._

_He is unruly, violent, and unpredictable. He has a fascination with flowers as well as sexual-sadist tendencies, and can sometimes lose touch with reality when it comes to his "craft". He is to be watched carefully, though the likeliness of him committing any kind of fraud, or inter-Organization betrayal is slim to non-existent. Overall, he is loyal, albeit twisted, and would be a valuable addition to the Organization XIII._

Roxas flipped through the pages, noting pictures, newspaper articles, and other documentation, though he could find nothing that would be useful to him at that moment. He didn't care about Marluxia's previous life, and could find nothing that was recent enough to be a weapon. He thumbed through the last of Marluxia's file until he came to the last page, which had another Zexion-style handwritten document.

_Under Organization protocol, I have given a personal profile session, in which I completely submerged myself in Marluxia's thoughts. This is a short list of what I have discovered, and if you wish to discuss further with me the details that would not be appropriate to place in this file, you may contact me at any time._

"A note to Xehanort probably," Roxas whispered to himself.

_Marluxia's Modus Operandi is rigid, though the actions performed can vary greatly. He cannot deviate from this ritual he has set for himself until he goes through a rigorous re-self-assessment, which could take months, or even years to complete properly. So, for now, he must stay in New York City for any major kills, or any personal days herein._

_His kill generally starts with a period of observation. Depending on how important this kill is will determine how long his observes. For unimportant murders, he will generally watch for a few hours to a few days. For more important murders, he will stalk for weeks, months, or years until he can reasonably assume an identity that will not alert the person to their imminent doom._

_After he has attained this camouflage, he will take down his victim, usually with a strike on the head, or any action that would create a situation where he is not required to subdue his victim further. This is the time he either ties them to a table or chair, or somehow restrains them to some immovable object where he will abandon them for extended periods of time, only showing up once in a while to feed them. The reasoning behind this, it seems, is because his duties in the Organization get in the way so he has created a way to keep his ritual the same while still working for the Organization._

_When he is ready to actually kill his victim, he describes exactly what he is going to do to them. The amount of detail depends on the level of fear, though this has not yet been able to be proven. Then, he'll let his victim wallow in their fear before he does exactly what he said he was going to do. Then he chops their bodies up into small pieces, and buries them in Central Park, where he places different varieties of flowers to mark their graves. As of the creation of this file, there are approximately nine hundred victims to Marluxia's name._

Roxas swallowed. Nine hundred? How could somebody have enough time to do that? Then it occurred that Marluxia was constantly killing people. Every day. And he was never privy as to how many people died by Marluxia's hand. If there were nine hundred, then that meant maybe two or three people a day, every day, for a year. And Roxas didn't know how old the file was, or how long Marluxia had been killing before then.

"I'm packing right now," came an unmistakable lofty voice.

Roxas froze. He hadn't been paying attention to the sounds outside Marluxia's room while he was gathering the disgusting information he had. He hadn't heard the elevators clunking around, nor did he hear any other doors open, but he didn't have time to think. He had to hide.

He had barely shoved himself into the back of Marluxia's closet and closed the door, when he heard the eccentric sounds of the pink demon's excitement. Something had happened.

"I'm going to Miami, you know."

Roxas's heart ripped out from his chest when he thought that Marluxia was talking to him, but calmed slightly when he remembered that there were three other bodies in the room. Marluxia must have been talking to them. Roxas heard Marluxia opening drawers, and throwing things around hurriedly, all the while praying that he wouldn't need anything in his closet that day. Suddenly there was silence.

"You are awfully quiet today," Marluxia hummed. "Why are you not protesting? I am here aren't I? You should be threatening me. Why are you silent?"

Roxas stopped breathing. He had noticed that his breaths were heavy and coated in unnatural fear. It wasn't fair how terrified he was. No one should ever be this afraid of another human being. But, Marluxia wasn't human; he was a monster wearing someone else's skin.

Marluxia muttered something to one of the bodies and a snarl ripped the silence with enough force to tear the very fabric of time. He was pissed. Roxas shoved himself deeper into the closet, trying to escape the sounds of evil that was just on the other side of the thin wooden door.

"Where are they?"

Roxas put his hand in his pocket, and felt the half full bottle of Zoloft. He had been incredibly stupid to take them. He regretted it instantly. He took them out and held them steady, not wanting to make them shift and draw attention to his hiding place. He was greeted with silence again.

He thought that maybe Marluxia left his room to search elsewhere for his medication, but a strange wet sound prevented him from moving. It was distinct. No one would have been able to mistake it, even if they had never heard it previously. It was the sound of metal cutting flesh. It was soft, gentle. The sound that could only be made by the sacrifice of another man's dignity.

Roxas was there for a few more minutes. His heart would not stop thumping. He could feel his intestines writhing about, getting ready to weaken. He held his breath, not daring to breathe for one second. He would rather die of suffocation then have Marluxia find him wedged in his closet. But, suddenly the thin metal head of a scythe tore through the wood like it was little more than paper.

"They're not here!" Marluxia screamed. "I've looked everywhere! Under the bed! In my drawers! In the closet! I—"

Roxas heard the snap of Marluxia's cell phone. Marluxia grumbled under his breath as he wrenched his scythe from the closet door. The thought of Marluxia being so close took the last of Roxas's nerve to not scream. He let out a small squeak and instantly clamped his hands over his mouth. But, Marluxia had heard him.

The first thing Roxas saw were the pale fingers leafing through the clothing, then the swish of bloodstained pink hair. Then a single blue eye looking right at him, and a crooked smile that stole the last of Roxas's will.

"Boo."

Roxas panicked, and his body froze under that stare. It betrayed everything he believed in, and did not allow him to move, or fight back, when Marluxia grabbed his collar and lifted him off the floor and out of the closet. He looked excited.

"Well, what do we have here?" Marluxia laughed softly. "A little boy who is lost? My, my."

Roxas struggled against Marluxia's grip and kicked his feet out. "Come on, Marluxia." He was surprised that Marluxia could lift him up so easily. He couldn't determine if it was because he was strong, or if it was because he was just lightweight.

"What are you doing in my room?" Marluxia sang. He noticed the bottle in Roxas's hand. "Stealing are you?"

"No!" Roxas blurted. "I was looking for my cell phone."

Marluxia dropped Roxas and pushed him back. Roxas almost fell, but caught himself for fear that if he did fall, Marluxia would kill him.

"Well, why don't I find it for you?" Marluxia said as he flipped his cell phone open and dialed a quick number. "That should do the trick."

Roxas paled when his cell phone rang in his pocket. He hesitated pulling it out, but he knew the rules for cell phones. He flipped it open and answered it, all the while staring at Marluxia. He tried to keep the fear out of his eyes, but he knew that Marluxia had already taken advantage of that.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" Marluxia asked.

Roxas swallowed. "H-Hello?"

Marluxia smiled and spoke into the receiver. "I found your phone."

Roxas trembled, but kept himself as still as he could. Marluxia was watching him, even when he was moving slowly across the room, Marluxia watched him like a hungry dog. Roxas stepped over the dead bodies, which had been mutilated, and had almost made it to the door when it closed. Darkness kissed his eyes, leaving nothing for him to see. He was blind with his eyes wide open.

"You didn't answer me, _Roxas_," Marluxia whispered. "What were you doing in here?"

"I was gathering information," Roxas said as confidently as he could fake. "I found your employee."

Marluxia paused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Roxas's fight-or-flight response was kicking in. He had to keep Marluxia distracted until he could figure out what to do. He didn't have Oblivion or Oathkeeper with him, so he was completely defenseless. He had to use his wit. If only his brain would stop going numb.

"You're a traitor," Roxas said stupidly.

Even through the darkness, Roxas could see the hatred in Marluxia's eyes, and he was swept off his feet and into what he was sure was blood, with a pink serial killer sitting on his chest. With his scythe at the ready, Marluxia spat in Roxas's face.

"Say that again!" Marluxia demanded. "Say that again and watch what happens to your pretty little face!"

Roxas howled in pain. He was crushed against something, and it was digging into his back.

"Open your mouth wider, Roxas," Marluxia crooned. "Don't be afraid. I only want your tongue."

Marluxia reached behind him for something. He grinned, and cut Roxas's face with an unknown object. Roxas cried out, but couldn't push Marluxia off of him. Marluxia licked the blood off his face. Roxas panicked.

"You taste so sweet, Roxas," Marluxia said. "Central Park will love you."

"Wait!"

Marluxia stopped. His phone rang, and he hissed as he opened it and put it on speaker. He placed it on the table behind him.

"What?" Marluxia whined. "I'm busy."

Larxene's voice echoed off the blood-covered walls. "Where the fuck are you? I called you twenty minutes ago and you said you were packing. Why aren't you here yet?"

"I got distracted."

"Xaldin is not going to wait forever," Larxene said. "You don't have to go to Miami with us. Superior only thought it would be a good idea to get you out of the city for a couple of days. He doesn't have to send you, you know."

Marluxia groaned. "Ugh, I'm on my way."

"What are you doing anyway?"

"Marking a target," Marluxia laughed.

"Whatever," Larxene huffed. "Just get here."

Marluxia rolled off of Roxas and hung up his phone. He grabbed the bottle of Zoloft Roxas had dropped, and headed out the door without another word. Roxas sat up, shaking visibly. Marluxia was pissed at him, and he had marked him as a target. He was next. He just knew it.

And, it was at that point, that he decided he would never go anywhere, or do anything without Oblivion and Oathkeeper at his side.

* * *

"I hate Cuban food!"

Aqua and Isa were standing next to a food truck, sampling the many different foods they served. Isa was wearing a thin white T-shirt and a pair of shorts. He ran his fingers through his hair, smiling and winking at a couple of girls that were sitting at a table across the parking lot.

"Keep it in your pants," Aqua huffed. "And besides, no one said you had to eat it."

Isa laughed. "I'll keep it in my pants as soon as you give me some. Until then…those are two of the hottest girls I've ever seen. God damn."

Aqua rolled her eyes and looked to the beach. Miami was a bouncy place. Full of scantily clad women and men who were showing off. And Cuban music blared from every street vendor. It was a lovely place, and for the drug dealer, it was the place to buy your goods wholesale and distribute them. Aqua knew this, and had many people under her employ who did just that. And this was where she was meeting one of her biggest distributors.

Martin Estevez. Also known as Master Eraqus, and Aqua's former Captain. He had been stationed in Miami by Aqua after he had handed his whole empire to her. He was a good distributor, and knew a thing or two about making a deal. And the only thing he had ever requested was complete privacy. He was never to be contacted or approached under any circumstances. Not even if it was an emergency.

However, Aqua didn't care. She knew Master Eraqus was the only one in her empire who could pass along a message as fast as a text message or phone call, without being flagged by the FBI or any other police force that was watching them. She was dropping by to send this message only. Then she would leave and never come back.

It was about the Heartless. Diz wanted to play rough, try to make a fool out of her, but she would not allow that. She had managed to lose the couple of Heartless that had been sent to watch her, but she knew it wouldn't be for long. They would find her again, and she wanted them dead. She couldn't stand how Diz was undermining her.

She found out that he had been purchasing properties from her lesser affiliates in hopes that he would be able to set up some kind of network under her nose. As soon as she found out, fires were springing up everywhere, and everyone's insurance claims had been paid. Diz was pissed about that, but he had gone into hiding. He was waiting for something, and wanted to be safe when it happened. Whatever it was.

"When are we moving?" Isa asked. "My guys are getting impatient."

"We move when I say we do," Aqua said. She frowned.

"What happened to you?" Isa said softly. "You used to be so fun. Remember when we used to run Philly together? We were unstoppable."

"That was the past," Aqua warned. "Leave it there."

Isa laughed, "Yeah, but you and I would come down here when we could and get shitfaced, remember? Good times."

"Isa."

Isa frowned and furrowed his brow in annoyance. "Listen, you asked me to help you. I'm helping. Stop being like that."

"You do not tell me what to do," Aqua snarled.

Isa leaned closer to Aqua, lips curled back in a threatening smile. "I'll say whatever I want. Don't put it past me to fuck you up."

Aqua pushed Isa back. "Watch yourself, motherfucker. I don't need you. Keep your tongue in your mouth, or I'll take it."

"Oh, don't act all gangster now, sweetcheeks." Isa chided.

Aqua smiled and pulled away. "You can't call me sweetcheeks until you've kissed my ass."

Isa frowned. Aqua turned away, and he wasn't sure what made him do it, but he pulled Aqua back and hugged her tightly, whispering his apologies. Aqua pushed him back.

"Go fuck yourself!"

Isa let her go, but sent one his men to follow her. Aqua was pissed at him now. He had crossed that line again. Offered her memories of the past that she clearly didn't want and he had overreacted to her words. He was going to have to swallow his pride to make it up to her, though he wasn't sure why she was being so difficult. He hung his head and walked away. Come nighttime, he was going to have to accompany Aqua to her distributor's house.

And he secretly had this pool of excitement well in his chest. This person was the same one who had hired him all those years ago. He had never meet them face to face, and he wanted to put a person to the nameless shadow that had given him the job of Aqua's personal assassin.

"What was that all about?"

Isa turned around. Another one of his men was standing behind him. They called him Dilan. And he looked concerned. He knew how much Aqua affected Isa's ability to make responsible decisions when it came to a job. He eyed Isa, choosing to not press it further if Isa declined to answer, as he undoubtedly would.

Isa frowned. "It's none of your fucking business."

Dilan retreated. He knew he was going to have to punch Isa at least once before the day was out. That the only thing Isa could respond to. Violence. It was because he was always trying to keep Aqua on her toes. His way of showing that he cared about her. But he came off a bit strong most of the time. That was probably why he had been confined to Philadelphia in the first place.

Dilan followed Isa reluctantly. He contemplated stopping the whole operation. He, too, cared about Aqua, hell, even considered her a friend of sorts. But he knew better than to attempt to breach that divider between friends and coworkers. They weren't even on the same level in organized crime. She was the boss, and he was someone who had been there to witness her climb to the top.

She had been a high-class prostitute for most of her upbringing since Master Eraqus had taken her in. She did her job, and did it well, much to Isa's dismay. She had begun to run drugs throughout New York, earning an intimate knowledge of the streets that only the lowest of scum were able to learn. She had risen quickly through the ranks, easily surpassing any other woman Master Eraqus had "adopted". Until she had stepped over what, to this date, was an invisible line between prostitute and pimp.

And she had been punished for it.

Dilan never knew what happened. Aqua just disappeared for a few years. According to his highest contacts, she had been shipped to Miami for a little while where she had done something for Master Eraqus, though what she did was completely discreet. Whatever it was, it earned her her own set, a small pile of cocaine keys, and her first city. Philadelphia. Isa had been with her, as well as Terra Hopsfield, and Ven Claus.

Dilan, himself, hadn't meet Isa until he showed up at a counting house to kill his previous Captain. Dilan had been out at the time, but when he came back, he saw Isa shoot the owner of the house in the head. Dilan had been inspired by Isa's efficiency, and asked for a job. Isa refused at first, but allowed him to go to Aqua to ask for employment. Aqua had hired him in her eagerness, and Dilan was branded and given the job as an assistant to Isa whenever called upon.

When he wasn't busy with Isa, Dilan spent most of his time in Aqua's counting houses. He was guard for them, and had to kill his fair share of idiots who were brave enough to attempt to steal from the Free God herself. He didn't like his job so much, but it put food on the table for his family, and gave them opportunities that he had never been blessed with. And that alone was the only thing that drove him to stay with Aqua. Or Isa.

But, things were going to change one day. Starting with nightfall.

* * *

Just off the Delaware River sat a tiny town that the citizens of New Jersey had long forgotten. It was so eroded and ramshackle, it did not have a name, and if it did, the people in said town had forgotten it over time. It was a timber town. Piles of cut wood lay all over the dirt roads, and when Lexaeus drove up in his van, he was not greeted by a soul.

He stopped by what looked like a general store, and when he poked his head in the door, he was met with a film of dust and a muted jingle. He looked around, opening doors to houses, looking in abandoned stalls, and calling out to anyone who would listen. Still, nothing.

"Nobody's here," Lexaeus whispered after a few hours. He had set up a tent and was gathering firewood.

Night didn't fall for a few more hours, but during that time, Lexaeus scoped out the area, looking for the perfect place to set up a timed virus release unit. So far, he had a few trees, a cave that was just outside of the small town, and a hole near a small stream that led to the Delaware. He left to get a few more supplies out of his van when he turned and saw a small child searching his campsite.

"Hey!"

The child tried to run, but Lexaeus caught up with him in a few bounds. The child struggled against him, kicking wildly and screaming. He had stolen a pocket knife, and was attempting to cut Lexaeus with it, but he was so puny, Lexaeus felt bad for him.

"What are you doing out here?" the child snarled.

Lexaeus snorted. "I'm doing my job. What the hell are you doing out here?"

The child spat in his face and struggled more. "I'm surviving. Making sure that _thing _doesn't come back."

Lexaeus shrugged and dropped the child without a second thought. "What thing would come out here?"

"That man," the child said, trembling. "With the spade. And that hair."

Lexaeus frowned. This description was not unlike what had been described to him before when speaking of Marluxia. That man with that spade and that hair. But, to be more accurate, that was description of Marla Shift. Marluxia was much more treacherous than he had been before. The child stared at him.

"He killed my mother," he stuttered. "I watched him do it. He took her away, and cut her guts out. He was so happy when he did it. I'm always protecting myself from him. If he ever came back."

"He won't come back," Lexaeus said quickly. The child took it to be comforting, but that couldn't be any farther from the truth. Lexaeus just knew Marluxia had no desire to return to his previous life. In the Organization, that was common knowledge.

"Will you help me?" the child asked. "My name is Ron."

"No."

Lexaeus turned away and began to fold his tent up. He didn't want to stay anywhere where children were around. He didn't care if they died, but the thought of being anywhere near one of Marluxia's kill sites sent uncontrollable chills up his spine. He didn't like Marluxia. Nobody did, but they would never admit that to one another, and Lexaeus was a believer in remnant spirits. If Marluxia had scarred the Earth with his filthy murders, Lexaeus wanted nothing to do with it.

But, then he thought about the virus. If he could release it here, it would wipe out any part of Marluxia that still existed. This would be the first place to test it out. And he had a child to test it on. Vexen would be pleased with the results, and Zexion would be interested in how the child coped mentally with it. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Xehanort.

"Hello, Lexaeus!" Xehanort cried happily. "How goes your search for the first test site? Successful, I hope."

"Yes, sir," Lexaeus said. "I think I found a place. It's secluded. There are very few people. A child, and maybe a family."

"Oh, yes," Ron said quickly. "My dad and my brothers. And my grandma."

"He sounds so happy," Xehanort said excitedly. "Too bad he doesn't know what's coming. It's a shame."

"Yes, sir."

"So, leave a mark and move on, my dear friend," Xehanort commanded hurriedly. "We need more than one test site."

"Sir," Lexaeus asked quickly. "Would you mind if I set the test up now? I could gather information while I'm here. I think Vexen would like that very much."

"Sorry, Lex," Xehanort said. "No testing is to start until I hear word from the development of the virus infused fetuses from both Vexen and Zexion. Until then, you find more towns to study. I appreciate it."

Lexaeus sighed and hung up the phone after a gruff good-bye. Ron watched him, mixed with suspicion and hope. He thought that this redhead hiker would have been able to help him and his family escape this forest, but his hopes had been dashed when Lexaeus hopped in his van and left the ramshackle town behind.

As he made his way onto a paved road, he dropped a tiny tracking device in the dirt. Hopefully it wouldn't be carried off by some animal, but little did Lexaeus know, Ron had taken the device right back to his family.

* * *

Seaside Heights was bustling place during the summer and during the filming of Jersey Shore. But for the people who lived there year-round, it was a quiet place during the beginning of autumn. And when winter was at the door, it became a grey city. This is where Cloud and Namine chose to call their home. At least until they could make it Chicago.

Cloud had enjoyed his new life. He had sold the last of his weed, and moved Namine into a great starter house. He had given up his criminal enterprise, and got a job as a janitor at a nearby school. The pay was good, and the work was hard, but he was making a decent living, without Terra. Or Aqua.

Namine had been spending a lot of time by herself lately, and Cloud thought it could have been depression, since she was having trouble getting a job, and her art wasn't selling very well. He thought that he could surprise her by taking her to her favorite sandwich place.

As they sat across from each other, Cloud was digging into a classic Italian hoagie when he noticed that Namine hadn't touched her food. He swallowed quickly and looked at her.

"What's wrong, babe?" Cloud asked. "You're not hungry?"

Namine smiled. "No, I love it, really I do. It's just I haven't been feeling very well lately. I don't want to eat anything. I'm sorry, Cloud."

Cloud frowned, but felt that arbitrary flutter of giddiness. He loved it when Namine said his name, and that was the only reason he had kept his criminal nickname. But, he was still worried that Namine wasn't eating anything.

"Are you sure, you're okay?"

Namine nodded and stood up. "Yeah, but can we go? The smell in here is making me sick."

"Yeah, yeah," Cloud said. He left the money on the table and took Namine's hand.

When they got back home, Cloud made a cup of tea for his girlfriend and gave it to her, still worried about her lack of an appetite. He felt her forehead, and mumbled something unintelligible. She squirmed under his touch and stood up quickly, feeling nausea rise in her throat.

Cloud tried to pull her back, but she wrenched her hand away and ran into the bathroom. Cloud heard the unmistakable sound of vomiting on the other side and forced the door open. Namine was bent over the rim of the toilet, wiping her face. She tried to hide her face from Cloud, but another wave of vomiting made her stain the water green.

"Namine!" Cloud cried. He bent next to her and tried his best to wipe her face. Namine grabbed him and cried openly, not being able to handle the stress of not telling him about her pregnancy.

Cloud hugged her. "What's wrong, Namine? Please, answer me."

Namine sobbed, and hugged Cloud back. She could barely speak. She was afraid that she would be left alone if she told Cloud that he was going to be a father. "I…"

Cloud was slowly putting two and two together on his own. And that was the last thing he thought was going to happen. He guessed it was possible that she could be. They hadn't been very protected during their love-making. But, still it seemed so impossible.

"How far along?"

Namine tried to stop her sobs, but it was so overwhelming. She was only eighteen and just out of high school. She didn't have enough life experience to take care of a child. She had no money, no job, and had just moved into her first starter house with her boyfriend. But she muttered a weak response.

"Two months."

Cloud frowned. He didn't have the financial stability to take care of a child either. But, he wasn't going to leave her. He was going to pull through this, but Namine was going to need a lot of things now. New clothes, different foods, and vitamins. Doctor visits, a gynecologist, and dozens of other things that would suck at his wallet. He curled up inside, thinking about how hard it was going to get soon.

"I love you, Namine."

Namine hugged Cloud harder. "I love you, too."

* * *

Felix Vanitas was completely ignorant to the problems of his neighbors as he sat and stared at the small tube of ink black and red liquid. It had come in the mail, and was apparently a very dangerous weapon. And though Felix had spent most of his time staring at this liquid, he couldn't help but think that his grandfather had left him something a little more special than just a tube of goo.

He had touched the side of the tube, and the goo inside shifted eagerly. Felix recoiled, surprised by the sudden shift in temperature. It became ice cold and then burned hot, all in the span of a second. He was tempted to open the tube, but he thought better of it. He didn't think it would be a good time to try to open something that could possibly tear his house to the ground. For now, it would sit in his kitchen counter until he had enough time to study it more.

The phone rang, and he ignored it. It rang for several minutes, and as soon as it stopped, it rang again. Felix picked up the phone and answered it.

"What?" He growled. He still kept his eyes on the tube of goo.

"Don't talk to me like that!"

Felix sighed. "I apologize. I'm kinda busy right now."

"We just got a huge order. You need to get it moving right away."

"Right now?"

"Yeah, whoever it was paid millions. It's mostly explosives, but they want it soon."

Felix growled. "Thanks, Scapelli. I'll move them soon. Sometime in the next week."

"Good. Looking forward to seeing you."

Felix grunted and hung up the phone. He pressed his thumb to the tube again, and the black goo swirled around his print. It tingled and made the glass hot. Felix watched it, weighing his options. The worst that could happen was he died, and the Scapellis wouldn't have a family of slaves anymore. So, he really didn't have anything to lose. He picked up the tube, and screwed the cap open. The goo shifted slightly, but had the consistency of cold molasses. It barely moved, but when Felix pressed his thumb to the side of the container again, the sludge inside warped around the rim and attached to his digit.

Felix panicked slightly as the goo attached to his skin with tiny elastic tendrils. It sucked at his skin slightly, and when Felix pulled at it with his other hand, it expanded. He shook it off, growling at it, though inside he was growing more fearful. Just what kind of fucked up shit was his grandfather doing? He took a couple of slow heated breaths and relaxed as best as he could. The goo had crawled up most of his arm, but it stopped suddenly and retreated, crawling back into its container and once again falling into that molasses like state.

"Shit," Felix breathed in amazement.

* * *

Vexen sat in a cramped office with his one hand twisting around the other. The gauntlet he had designed was finally finished, and he was going to show his handlers exactly what he spent their money on, though they didn't know that most of their funds were covering the costs of keeping Dusk alive. He wasn't too happy that they were demanding so many things from him at once. He requested that they back off, but they declined and only added to his frustrations. In fact, if Zexion weren't there half the time, he would have never finished his creation.

"Ah, Dr. Redman, nice of you to come."

Vexen stood up quickly, hiding his distain at being addressed by his former name. He cracked a smile and shook hands with the General. General Branston, the leader of the highest scientific department of the United States. It was his job to make sure the United States stayed ahead of every other country when it came to cutting edge science. And Dr. Redman was at the top of his roster.

"I hope you have something nice to show me."

Vexen paused. "I suppose I do."

"Come in, come in."

General Branston was obviously excited to see what Vexen had created. The last time they had spoken face to face, Vexen had a normal hand, and now, there was something light blue on his wrist. General Branston eyed it.

"Is that what you came to show me?"

"Well, yes and no," Vexen said. "I first want to discuss the terms of my employment. Then, I will show you what I have done. Agreed?"

General Branston sat at his desk. "Agreed, my good friend. What is it you want? A raise in pay? Better facilities?"

Vexen placed his hands on the desk and leaned in General Branston's face. "I no longer wish to work for you."

General Branston frowned, losing at once that friendly exterior. "What are you talking about? You want to quit? After everything I've given you?"

Vexen snorted. "You have given me nothing. All you talk about is what you want. You never once asked what I am interested in."

"Your ego is hurt?" General Branston asked lazily. "Okay, what is it that you like then?"

Vexen grinned. "Here, let me show you." He pulled out an envelope and placed the pictures of Dusk on the desk. "I enjoy biochemical engineering. This is my latest creation."

General Branston gasped at the pictures. Dusk had developed further, and was looking more and more human like. There were still no eyes, but something was beginning to develop in its place that looked like it could have been some kind of sensory organ. General Branston looked up, flabbergasted.

"This is impossible!" He sputtered. "You…This…is not human. What the fuck did you do?"

Vexen smiled. "Well, I created something that had never been attempted before now. You government pussies, who are too afraid to experiment. And why? Because the American people say it's wrong? Incompetent idiots."

General Branston reached for the pistol in his desk, but Vexen stopped him. His gauntlet pulsed, and extended along his arm. General Branston stopped struggling and stared at the gauntlet. It was an icy blue. The very color chilled the air around it.

"It samples the temperature in surrounding area," Vexen said. He flexed his fingers, feeling his blood rush. "Then, it passes heat along. It just happens to move the heat away from the body. So you feel this draft."

General Branston breathed shallowly, and a long jet of fog escaped his mouth. It was getting colder. Exponentially so.

"Then, the cold becomes so unbearable, your body begins to shut down," Vexen sneered, being sure not to gloat too loudly for fear someone would catch him. Not like he really cared. "First your fingers go numb, then your arms, and you go through what we scientists like to call Hypothermia."

General Branston did feel cold, though he could still feel his fingertips, and his arms. In fact, he just felt a little chilly as opposed to being frigid. Perhaps his star scientist was just bluffing.

He was just about to take a swing at Vexen when he locked up. His arms suddenly lost all feeling and pins and needles scratched the inside of his skin. He looked at his fingers, and they were pitch black. And he saw the cells in his arms die, and the darkness crept up his arms until black streaks stroked his neck and clung to his face.

"What the fuck?"

Vexen smiled. "I never said anything about it happening slowly. It happens fast. In the blink of an eye. You don't even know what hits you until you can no longer fend for yourself." Vexen showed the Gauntlet in the light. It sparkled dangerously.

"What did you do to me?" General Branston choked. He wanted to clutch his throat, but his arms weren't listening to his brain anymore.

Vexen stepped back. "I've created things you could hardly imagine. Right now, a time release Liquid Nitrogen compound is coursing through your veins. It's reacting to the Hemoglobin in your blood, and it's killing you from the inside out."

Vexen turned. "Enjoy death, General. I have much more important things to take care of. I have a child waiting for me at home."

General Branston sputtered, but Vexen ignored his pleas. Hypothermia took him first, but frostbite had not finished with him yet. By the time his affiliates had found him, his skin was frozen solid, and Vexen was nowhere to be found.

He had returned to the labs to find Roxas sitting in the lounge. He wasn't playing any video games, like he normally would have, but was sitting in a dazed stupor. Vexen, though slightly concerned by Roxas's sudden change in behavior, did not stop to chat. He had more important things to take care of. He rushed to his lab, practically throwing his travel cloak to the floor.

He stopped in front of the tank in which he kept Dusk. He had named the tank itself the Womb. And the fetus inside was becoming less fetus, and more being. Vexen touched the tank, leaving tiny heated smudges on the glass.

"You're almost there, Dusk," Vexen said. He jotted down a couple of notes and looked in the tank again. "Just a few more weeks. I promise."

He had a strange paternal feeling towards the being in the Womb. He had brought it into creation. He infused the donor fetus with the virus, and bred it in this tank with the perfect balance of every vitamin and nutrient it needed to survive. He had even conducted cognitive tests and determined its brain capacity long before its brain had even developed. He was proud of his creation. He loved it.

His cell phone rang, and he flipped it open and put it on speaker. He moved around his lab as Zexion's voice greeted him.

"I have news for you," Zexion said. "It seems like nothing on the surface, but I do believe it is important."

"I'm listening, my friend," Vexen answered. He pulled out a few charts, and graphed equations on a chalkboard across the room from the Womb. "Tell me, how has your testing gone?"

Zexion cleared his throat. "The eight-month-old died. Or rather, the mother died and the child went with her."

"That's a shame." Vexen clicked his teeth. "Was it the virus?"

"I don't think so," Zexion replied. "I believe the woman was so malnourished, that the virus took hold of her body before it had a chance to fight back. She died because she was weak. So I would consider eight months pregnant to be inconclusive."

"Shit."

"However, I had two subjects who were both a little less than three months along when I introduced the virus to their bloodstream." Zexion paused, and a slight tone of happiness could be heard under his monotone explanation. "They are still alive, and thriving. Unfortunately, they will not be alive much longer."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Zexion confirmed. "They are exhibiting many of the same symptoms as our previous subjects had, only much slower, and less obvious. Though, their blood volume is decreasing drastically, and they can no longer walk without assistance. But, this is something that I found interesting that may prove your ingenuity."

"Flattery," Vexen laughed. "Are you setting me up for a shortcoming, Zexion?"

"No."

Vexen stifled his laughter to a muffled chuckle. "You must loosen up, Zexion. You'll die young if you don't."

"I'm not concerned about that," Zexion retorted.

"My apologies, six."

Zexion ignored Vexen and continued. "The one woman told me that after I had left about a month ago, her baby had not moved. Not once. I found that to be mildly alarming, but upon giving her an ultrasound, I found that her fetus was fine. Healthy even, but it did not react to most of the stimuli I had presented. However, I found that it moved more often when I was explaining things to the locals. This leads me to believe that your attempts at making the virus responsive to our voices successful."

Vexen smiled. "Really? This is fantastic! I must record this."

"Yes, you do that," Zexion muttered. "Have you seen Marluxia?"

"No, but, I believe he's not here. Why?"

"Just wanted to issue a warning." Zexion paused. "It's no big deal. I'm sure Xehanort will deal with it."

Vexen picked up the phone. "When will you be returning? It's rather somber without you here to assist me."

Zexion hummed. "I think I will be returning soon enough. After the hosts have delivered the Dusks. I believe that's what we're calling them? Dusks?"

"Yes, charming isn't it?"

Zexion didn't answer.

"No matter." Vexen said quickly. "I'll see you soon, my friend."

Dialtone.

* * *

Marluxia had entered the hanger where Lindworm was sitting, carrying a bag of supplies. He seemed more haughty than usual, and was extremely unhappy with Roxas's accusation. How dare he accuse him of such a treacherous crime. Why was he still breathing at this moment? But, he had to focus. He didn't have time to fuck up.

Travel always made him nervous, but he enjoyed it greatly when he could go to other places and kill. Xehanort was being generous today. But, Marluxia frowned deeper when Xehanort was nowhere in sight.

"Superior is not here?"

Larxene stood with Xaldin. She had her long hair tied back, and she spun around angrily.

"You're late, Marluxia," she hissed. "Superior was disappointed by your tardiness. You better make it up to him when we get back, or he'll kick your ass."

"Somebody not fucking enough?" Marluxia spat back.

Larxene pushed him. "You keep your mouth shut, flower fag. I'm in charge of this assignment and I expect a certain level of respect. I have no problems stabbing you in the back."

"You wanna try it, bitch?" Marluxia's fingers twitched.

Xaldin pulled the two of them apart, growling. "I'm not taking either one of you anywhere until you pull yourselves together. I will not have you two fighting on my plane."

Larxene whipped around and boarded Lindworm without another word. She wore her Organization robes, but pulled them off as soon as she was at the top of the stairs. It was cold in the Northeast, but in Miami, it would be hot. She was already dressed in eccentric yellows for the beach, and she glared at Marluxia through catlike green eyes. Marluxia followed her, but Xaldin pushed him back.

"Xehanort wanted me to tell you something," Xaldin said.

Marluxia didn't say anything back, but his heart leapt with excitement. Almost as much as when he cut Roxas's cheek and tasted his blood.

_Focus!_

Xaldin looked away. Marluxia did make him uncomfortable, but he could deal with pink demon's presence better than most in their dysfunctional family. "Xehanort does not want you to kill anybody in Miami."

"What?" Marluxia barked. "Then why send me?"

"He said that if push comes to shove, to bring Aqua back alive." Xaldin said without answering his question. "He doesn't want you to kill unnecessarily. He just wants you to observe."

Marluxia huffed.

"However," Xaldin added. "You will have a week off to do whatever you please when you return, providing everything goes according to plan."

Marluxia smiled crookedly. "Sounds good."

"Xehanort says that now more than ever, will the blood of the innocent be valuable." Xaldin whispered. "It would not be wise to lose sight of that. Please, stay sane, Marluxia."

Marluxia frowned. "I suppose he doesn't trust me, then?"

"No, that's not what he means," Xaldin corrected. "He understands your apprehensions about travel, and just wishes for you to be okay. He knows it makes you nervous."

Marluxia huffed again and boarded the plane.

"Don't disappoint him."

Marluxia grinned. He would never do anything to upset Xehanort in any way. He was there to provide invaluable intelligence, though he wasn't entirely sure who his subject was. Obviously Aqua was not to be killed, but he could already feel those murderous nerves twitching.

He had a lot of planning to do for his week off, that was for sure. That comment just kept floating in his mind. You're a traitor. You're a traitor. Marluxia struggled with the logic. He couldn't see where something like that could come from. He did his job, finished his assignments quickly, and managed to pin almost everyone he killed on the Heartless. So, why was Roxas's comment bothering him so much? Marluxia groaned inwardly. He was beyond annoyed.

Maybe Xehanort wouldn't miss _one _blonde.

* * *

Aqua stood in front of a freshly painted red door in an area that connected to a private beach in a gated community. She had gotten in easily enough, all she had to do was tease the security guard, and he let her in without a problem. But, she was stressing out. Not only because what she needed was detrimental to her fight with Diz, but meeting with her old Captain brought about memories she wished she could have left behind.

But, she stood in front of this door, shaking slightly. She had to regain her composure before she approached this man, who had instilled so much fear in her before. Now she was in charge, and she had to get her message out.

"I can do this," Aqua mumbled. She knocked on the door briskly.

After a few minutes of waiting, the door opened, and a boy of about twelve years stared at her, bored out of his mind, and listening to an IPod. He looked her up and down and blushed.

"Yeah?" He asked. "What do you want?"

Aqua smiled softly. "Is your father home?"

The boy paused, thinking for a second. He looked back into the house and yelled as loudly as he could. "Dad! There's a woman here for you!" He turned back to Aqua. "He'll be down in a second."

Aqua nodded as the boy closed the door. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she wished she didn't have to do this alone, but Isa was climbing in through an unguarded window, and the guys he brought with him where watching her through rifle scopes. The door opened again.

"Yes, what can I help you…?"

The man at the door froze, and he calm face swirled into a pit of anger that Aqua hadn't seen coming.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Eraqus," Aqua said. "We need to talk."

The man turned an alarming shade of red, but let Aqua in. Aqua immediately set to closing all the windows and drawing the blinds. Dilan, who had been watching her closest, cursed under his breath.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he breathed.

Aqua drew the last blind, and turned to her former Captain. "Okay, I'm going to make this quick."

Eraqus raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to send a message to all of my employees," Aqua barked. "You are going to do it right now, then you're never going to see me again."

"So you think you can just barge your way in here and demand things of me?" Eraqus laughed. "You're out of your fucking mind, bitch. I knew it was only a matter of time before you crawled back to me to give back the gift I bestowed on you."

Aqua threw the first thing her hand touched. It was a small vase that looked expensive, and water and flowers flew everywhere before the vase shattered. "You will not speak to me like that! I am to be respected! You shut your fucking mouth!"

Eraqus smirked. "I see you still have feelings for me. I gave you everything. To them, you might be the big boss, but you'll always be my little whore."

Another vase shattered over Eraqus's head. He stood up and took a step forward. "I'm not doing shit for you. You haven't earned it."

Aqua flew across the room, using all of her strength to punch Eraqus across the face. She wasn't as strong as her bodyguards or Isa, but Eraqus fell backwards. He reached out and pulled Aqua down with him. They rolled over each other, both yelling horrifying obscenities at each other, until Eraqus pulled a knife from his belt and held it to Aqua's neck. Aqua froze, breathing erratically.

"You still respect me," Eraqus muttered. "I own you."

"You do not," Aqua growled. "Not anymore."

"Oh?" Eraqus smiled. "Fine, let me prove it to you."

He drew the knife lightly along Aqua's cheek, being careful not to mar her beautifully enraged face. He snagged the back of her shirt, and cut the fabric easily, exposing an elaborate tattoo that flowed down her back. Angel wings that looked like they had been torn. And in the middle of her back were faded initials. ME.

"See?" Eraqus breathed huskily. "I still own you."

Aqua pushed up, but Eraqus kept himself pressed against her. Aqua teared up because this was exactly what he did the last time they had spoken face to face. And then she had been banished to Philadelphia shortly afterwards. And she began to shiver, scared of what was going to happen to her.

"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you, honey," Eraqus whispered. "You already gave me what I wanted."

"Dad?"

Aqua looked up. The same child that had answered the door was standing in the doorway, looking slightly apologetic, but not surprised. It seemed he was used to the way his father treated women. He stood there, thinking about what he wanted to say, but nothing came out of his mouth.

"Miguel," Eraqus said. "Go to your room and wait for me. I'm just in the middle of a business meeting. It'll be over soon."

"Please don't hurt her."

"I won't," Eraqus held up a hand. "I promise."

Miguel, not believing his father for a second, turned on his heels and ran up the stairs to his room, where he would try to block his ears from the screams of pain he knew would float up the stairwell. He flopped on his bed, covered his ears with headphones, and turned his music all the way up. He couldn't hear a thing, and he couldn't hear Isa moving around the upstairs.

Isa had climbed through the back window, and had been followed by another man. As soon as they were both in a spare bedroom, they attacked each other, trying to stay as quiet as possible so nobody would hear them. It was Moloch, and he was alone despite bringing two other men with him. Isa hadn't seen him until it was too late to try to deter him.

Moloch pulled out a gun, and Isa froze.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Moloch laughed. "Come on, move back."

Isa obeyed, moving away from the door and towards the window. "You don't have to do this, man. We used to be on the same side."

Moloch frowned. "Yeah? Well, we're not anymore. Aqua got to be too much of an obstacle. Diz wants her dead. And you're not going to stop me."

Isa grinned, laying on a cool exterior. He was going to have to turn the tables somehow. And killing Moloch was a must unless the little shit escaped. But, for now, Isa had to get the gun out of the equation.

"I wouldn't try to stop you," Isa said. "I want the same thing you do."

"I don't think so," Moloch growled. "You've been her wing man since you started."

"That may be true, but I don't want her in the drug game anymore than you do," Isa explained softly. "I've been trying to weed her out of it since Lea disappeared. You're just making it harder, because I want to be the one to get rid of her."

Moloch subconsciously lowered his weapon. Though he still had the gun drawn, he was no longer interested in pulling the trigger. Isa had distracted him.

"Why would you want to get rid of her?" Moloch asked. "This is not making sense to me."

"I want the power."

Moloch flashed a smile. "So you want to be in control? I should have known. All you drug dealers are alike. All you want is money and power. You don't even care about anything else. Pathetic. Diz was right about you."

Isa glanced around the room, looking for something he could use as a weapon. His gun was out of the question because he would be shot before he could even think about it. He shook his head, and an angry cry drew his attention. He could recognize it anywhere. It was Aqua.

Moloch looked at the door. "Looks like you're boss is in trouble. Aren't you going to help her?"

Isa frowned, and tensed up. Of course he wanted to help her, but if he did, his distraction would be destroyed. He relaxed and shrugged. "Why would I do that? She deserves it."

Moloch smiled. "So, will you let me pass?"

Isa tensed once again. "Sure, go ahead."

He side stepped Moloch, and opened the door. Moloch grinned and pointed the gun at him. "Step back. I know your type. You'd wait for me to leave, then stab me in the back. I'm not stupid, Isa. I'll blow your fucking head off."

Isa grimaced. "I would never."

"Well, I'm not taking any chances," Moloch growled. "Step the fuck back."

Isa did as he was told, hating that he couldn't do a thing. So far, this easy job was turning into a political battle for the ages. Only the policies were bullets and the politicians were guns. Isa growled under his breath as another angry cry echoed upstairs. He knew what was going on, because that was the same sound he remembered hearing when Aqua told him that she was going to get him a job.

He had been asked to stand outside the house. He had never seen her Captain's face, but he was waiting to hear f he was going to have a job or not. He had just been kicked out of the University because he was caught stealing prescription drugs. Lea had bet him, and he was up to the challenge, not really caring what the consequences were until he had been expelled.

So, with his dreams of becoming a doctor dashed, he turned to Aqua, asking her for help. He had heard that she was getting into the drug game, even though he had specifically asked her not to. But, she was strong willed, and desperate, and she owed Isa a favor for not telling her parents.

So, there he was, standing outside this counting house, with Aqua alone, inside, with a bunch of tough men. He wanted to go in and beat them up, but he knew he was out numbered, and he wasn't strong enough to do anything to them if they decided to make it a gunfight. At the time, he knew he couldn't kill anyone.

He never smoked, but that day, he lit his first cigarette, and sucked the smoke in nervously. He chuckled at the thought that Lea would probably laugh at him, and then steal it right from his mouth. He threw the butt in the grass and peeked through the curtains. He had to stand on his toes, but he figured that he could at least _steal_ a glance at the mysterious person who was going to change his life forever.

Instead, he saw Aqua, bent over a chair, with a man behind her. She was crying, and as soon as she saw Isa peeking through the curtain, she cried out angrily. Isa fell back, completely caught off guard and disgusted by what he witnessed.

Aqua was getting raped so that he could have a job. He clenched his fists and stormed up to the door, ready to kick it down, when someone stopped him. It was Lea, and he had come with a half-assed apology. Isa yelled at him, and turned back to the door. It was cracked, and the same man who had so greedily thrust himself into Aqua handed Isa a gun and a list of names. Isa glanced at it, and instantly recognized some of them.

"Turn around," the man said. Isa heard a distinctive Southern drawl that reminded him of movies that he had seen that centered on racism. This man was the plantation owner, and Isa couldn't help but feel like the slave.

"Listen," the man said. "You've been given a job. You are to protect Aqua at all costs, even if it means giving your life."

Isa opened his mouth, but a searing pain ripped his head open, and he clutched his ear. He doubled over, and fell down the few cement stairs that led to the door. Lea backed away, and ran off, not bothering to help his once best friend, and closest comrade. Isa's eyes watered, and he shouted curses. The man opened the door wider, and Aqua stepped outside, looking haggard and defeated.

She passed Isa without looking at him. Isa sat up, and the man at the door laughed.

"Well, Isa," he chuckled. "You've certainly got your hands full, don't you? Be careful."

Isa sat up, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Well, I'm certainly not the man you're looking for." The man snarled. "I only pass messages along. Aqua's…unfortunate encounter with me was only a reprimand ordered by her Captain. He gave you the job, not me, and not her."

"Motherfucker."

"Name calling won't get you anywhere, son."

Isa stood up, but he wobbled. His head throbbed. "I'm going to kill you."

"I look forward to the challenge, young man. You see, I am very powerful, and I don't appreciate people trying to take things that belong to me." A short bout of laughter. "You'll understand one day, Isa. But, if you want to live to see that day, you'll leave, and never show your face to me again. Or, I promise you I'll cut it off."

A sharp yelp from Moloch disrupted Isa's reminiscing. He looked out of the room, only after pulling out a silenced pistol. That motherfucker was going to get a bullet in the brain. As soon as Isa stepped into the hallway, he stopped. One of the biggest men he had ever seen was looking down at him through thick eyebrows, and bristled sideburns.

"Shit," Isa muttered. He assumed that this was one of the guys Moloch had been accompanied by.

Xaldin growled at him. Isa took a defensive step back, and bumped into Marluxia. He was cornered, once again, but he had a weapon this time.

"Who the fuck are you?" Isa barked. He had no authority to ask such a question in that manner.

Larxene moved past Xaldin, snickering. "We only want to talk, Isa."

Isa swallowed, but kept up his tough exterior.

"No need to be so defensive, love," Larxene said. "They won't hurt you much. Not unless I say so."

Marluxia giggled under his breath and Xaldin hushed him. He fell silent, but Isa could feel evil radiating off of him. Isa glanced at each of them, weighing his options. Gunfire echoed up the stairwell.

"What do you want?"

Larxene hummed. "Well, we are awfully blunt, aren't we?" She paused. "I suppose we could just cut to the chase. We understand that you and the Heartless are not on good terms."

"So?"

"Well, we want to know where he is," Larxene said. "It's a simple enough question. And, I think you can find that out. After all, isn't that what Aqua's here for?"

Isa bit his lower lip, thinking. He had no idea where Diz was. And these people who were threatening him with just a glance we starting to unnerve him.

"I don't know where he is," Isa said coolly. "But, if you find him, tell him I'll kill him."

Larxene poked a knife at Isa's stomach. Isa didn't struggle against her, but he knew a fight was stirring. "I know you know." She poked him harder. "Think about it. Anything you talked to Moloch about ring any bells?"

"We didn't make small talk, bitch," Isa snarled.

Larxene smiled dangerously. "Think about it, Isa. If you were Diz, where would you hide?"

Isa leaned back. "Why are you asking me?"

Xaldin grunted. "You will be more likely to tell the truth, for fear that you're boss will die. I would make sure of that if you don't answer her question."

Isa thought for a second. He honestly had no idea. He had never even seen the guy that closely before. They must have been testing them. He frowned, and tensed up, letting the rush of adrenaline build into an ocean that couldn't be rivaled. Larxene stared at him for a moment longer, before they both moved at the same time.

Isa grabbed the knife from Larxene's hand, and spun it into a comfortable position, while Larxene danced out of the way of Isa's first attack. They ended up back to back, each holding a fistful of each other's hair. Larxene pressed an acupuncture needle into Isa's back. Isa locked up in pain, but didn't dare show a sign of weakness. He pulled her long hair.

"You fucking cunt," Isa growled. "Get the fuck out of my way."

Larxene smiled and pressed another needle into Isa's flesh. "Tell me what I want to know. You're Aqua's wingman. Moloch's companion says you know."

Isa frowned. They had the wrong person. Although he was commonly mistaken for being Aqua's wingman, that title belonged to the one who Aqua deemed her second. And that person was far away.

"Fucking Riku," Isa growled.

Larxene frowned. Her assignment wasn't going as planned, and Xehanort would be pissed if she didn't come back with something. He specifically asked for the whereabouts of Diz, and if she didn't get it for him, she would be punished, and Marluxia would be only too happy to oblige. She grit her teeth, and pulled as hard as she could out of Isa's grasp. Isa pulled her hair back, and cut the blonde locks.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Larxene snarled. She reached up, and felt split ends. "I'm over this. Xaldin, you can kill him. He doesn't know."

Isa frowned. "Xaldin?"

Xaldin picked Isa up and threw him down the hallway. The needles buried themselves deeper, and Isa lost all the feeling in his lower half. He panicked. He gripped the carpet and pulled himself along, trying to reach his pistol before Xaldin killed him. He was almost there when Marluxia pressed the heel of his boot on Isa's hand. Isa looked up.

"I'm not allowed to kill you, Isa," Marluxia laughed. "But, I am certainly going to watch you die."

Isa rolled over and grabbed his pistol with his other hand. He instantly aimed it at Marluxia and pulled the trigger. Marluxia fell back, grasping his arm. He had screamed, but Isa wasn't sure if it was the pain that created such a hollow sound. Marluxia glared at him, blood oozing from his shoulder.

"You motherfucker," Marluxia yelled.

Isa's soul left him, and several things happened at once. Marluxia grabbed his scythe and stood to his full height. He seemed completely unfazed by his wound. Xaldin tackled Marluxia and pulled him back, and the pink demon swung down with all his might. The scythe's blade buried itself in between Isa's legs, missing by an inch. Isa gasped, and Marluxia struggled against Xaldin's iron grip.

"Fuck you, Isa!" Marluxia cried. "You think you can shoot me and live? One day, I'm gonna cut your dick off and shove it down your throat! Do you hear me?"

Xaldin wrestled Marluxia to the floor and stuck him with a hypodermic needle. Marluxia calmed instantly, and vomited. He passed out, and Xaldin stood up, flipping his cell phone open.

"Yeah, we've been compromised," he muttered. "We're on our way back."

Xaldin picked Marluxia's body, and left, running down the stairs. Larxene had long gone, and Isa breathed harshly, scared out of his mind. His hand shook violently, and he fell back onto the carpet. He resisted the urge to vomit. And his stomach turned over itself.

After a few minutes, Miguel opened his bedroom door. He had heard the fight, and hid in his closet. But, once the vibrations in the floor stopped, he peeked out of his room. Isa panted, scared out of his mind. When he saw Miguel, he chuckled in spite of himself.

"Hey, kid," he groaned. "Could you help me out?"

Miguel hesitated. He had seen this before, when his father got into fights with his friends. They usually ended up like this. And he had always been told to never help anyone. But, Miguel had never seen this man before. And he didn't think that any self respecting drug dealer in Miami would dye their hair such a crazy shade of blue. He came closer, but he grabbed a bat from his room before doing so.

"Could you pull these out?" Isa asked. He rolled on his side. The needles were barely visible "Please?"

Miguel approached Isa apprehensively. He frowned slightly, and ran to the bathroom to get a pair of tweezers. As he got closer to Isa, he felt a strange sympathy for him, even though he had never seen him before. But he squatted next to him and pulled the needles out one by one. Isa hissed. He tensed up every once in a while, but didn't move otherwise. He could feel his legs again. They tingled and stung, though he remained on the floor.

Miguel went back into his room and turned his music back on. Isa sighed deeply. He was beginning to get tired of this. Constantly fighting for something he didn't want. Drugs, prostitution, extortion, murder. He was sick of it all, and wanted so desperately to take Aqua away. He wasn't lying when he told Moloch that he wanted Aqua out of the game. He just didn't want to kill her to do it, and he didn't want the power she had.

He wanted her to be safe.

He struggled to his feet, and made his way downstairs, scared that he would see Xaldin, or Marluxia on the way. Or if those gunshots he had heard previously would be Aqua's dead body on the carpet. Moloch was nowhere to be found, though Isa could see signs that he had fought with those lunatics as well. He felt slightly bad for him because Marluxia was a scary motherfucker, but he erased those feelings as soon as remembered that Moloch had threatened to kill him.

The living room was in disarray. Tables had been broken, vases smashed, and glass littered the floor like a twisted kind of diamond warehouse. Isa paled when he saw two bodies in the floor, facedown. Neither one was moving, and a strange looking device was sitting in front of them.

"Aqua!"

Isa rushed to Aqua's body and turned it over. She was naked, and Isa pulled a throw blanket from a destroyed chair and covered her with it. He cradled her and tried to wake her up. Her skin was decorated with shards of glass, and Isa began to pull them out hurriedly, stifling incoming sobs.

"Aqua!"

Isa brushed glass away from Aqua, and laid her down gently. He stood up, gathered supplies from around the house, and sat back down next to her. He had been in the University long enough to know how to fix somebody up, but could do little more for her. He removed all the glass shards from her skin, cleaned her wounds with alcohol, and wrapped most of her body in gauze.

During this process, Aqua had stirred, but she remained still, not opening her eyes, or making any other attempt to tell Isa how she felt. Isa panicked, but couldn't help that flutter of lust rise in his heart. He hated himself for it, but there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that he could ravage Aqua much better than Riku could.

And there it was again. That jealousy.

He flipped his phone open and called Hayner. He knew his companion would be in New York, and would have received that message, if it had actually been sent out.

"Hello?"

"Hayner, did you get a message recently?"

Hayner fumbled around on his end of the phone. "Uh, yeah. A KOS had been placed on the Heartless."

"That's it?"

"Well, yeah." Hayner paused. "And I thought you should know that Riku is looking for you."

Isa growled. "That little shit."

"He's here. I told him you guys were in Miami, but that you were coming back soon." Hayner coughed. "I think he wants to talk to Aqua."

Isa frowned and hung up the phone. He was up shit's creek for sure. Aqua opened her eyes, and sat up. Isa didn't say anything to her, but his heart leapt. Aqua gathered the blanket around herself. Eraqus was still facedown.

"Did you kill him?" Isa asked.

Aqua was quiet for a while. "No, he's just down on Red Birds. Fucker injected me with it, too."

Isa blinked. "Do you want me to kill him?"

"I should," Aqua said. "But Miguel needs his father, though I fucking hate him."

Isa helped Aqua to her feet. "We should go. There's no telling when the cops are going to show up."

Aqua nodded, and allowed Isa to help her dress. The Red Birds were still in her system, and she felt sluggish and unaware. She just needed to sleep, but she knew she couldn't until she flushed it out of her body. She was going to be awfully cranky by the time they made it to New York.

If they made it back to New York.

* * *

**Just a note: Secobarbital is a drug that is used as a temporary treatment of insomnia. It is considered a downer, and sometimes goes by the Street name Red Birds. I used this because it sounds pretty when written down. Don't do drugs.**

**So, that's my disclaimer. I thought is was relevent to the last part of this chapter. You know, thirteen thousand words. It would have been longer, but I had to hold myself back again. And I kind of liked how it turned out. The parts that I cut were not that important after all. Yay for editing.**

**So, thank DeadShut for the lovely music for the Organization XIII. *claps***

**And you has a nice day, from the both of us. :D**


	22. Concave Womb Reworded

**"_Out of the blue, and into the black."_**  
**-Neil Young**

**Hello, all, Deadshut here. A smaller chapter for you guys; I'm sure you're getting headaches from all these 12,000-worders. But, uh, anyways; GOOD NEWS! Haj' and I have opened up a "**_**The Nobody Virus**_**" Wiki! A database for this FanFic of ours! Check 'er out! **

**Haji here with an important notice: The website will be posted on my profile because you are not allowed to post websites in stories on this site.**

**Also, the TNV Wiki was a lot of fun to do. Please indulge us.**

**Enjoy.  
**

**

* * *

**

Felix Vanitas cooked himself up a nice lasagna with some spiced potatoes on the side, and ate at the kitchen table, alone as usual. He had never had much interest in other people, so it was natural for him to live alone. His parents had never really taken care of him right, and he knew this; it just fueled his fire to be the best smuggler he could be. And damn, was he good. He could sneak onto anything, and hell, could sneak _anything_ onto anything.

Plus, with a job that involved a lot of moving around from place to place, it was better to not have some broad attached to him. Plus, he never really understood "love". It didn't appeal to his interests whatsoever.

He jumped and almost choked on his potatoes when his cell phone rang in his front pocket.

"Felix speaking."

"Felix," said Scapelli. "Our mole in your local authorities unit just called us."

"Yeah, so?"

"So apparently there's been a whole thing with some guy in the Heartless who works there, who was makin' _our_ guy give him fifty percent of our products we've been shippin' in! Our guy made a move, an' now he's dead, and the Heartless motherfucker just put out a warrant for your arrest."

Vanitas dropped his fork. It landed on his plate and rattled.

"Sonofabitch," he croaked, all of the spit in his mouth drying up. "How long 'till they're on their way?"

"About a half hour. We got info from Shady Sam, he lives in Seaside, too. How much cash you got on ya'?"

"Not a lot."

"Well get some more, and haul ass outta' there. Head to New York. I'm sendin' a couple guys in to meet you and give ya' a new home."

"Okay."

"Oh, and Vanitas?"

"Yeah?"

"Be fuckin' careful, aight?"

"Yessir."

Scapelli hung up. Vanitas shut his cell phone, stood up, and ran to his bedroom. From the closet he pulled out a couple of cases, and began to stuff clothes in them, mind and heart racing. If he was caught, he would be put into jail with no hesitation; a lot of people knew who he truly was. And Felix had been in jail before…it was not a nice place to be. No, sir. Thinking about the abuse he had gone through still brought him close to tears, and had he not been a sociopath, he would've cried with those memories.

Thing was, he needed money. He barely had enough to afford a train ticket, and he also needed to eat and pay for a taxi later when he got to the city…_if_ he got to the city.

And he knew exactly what he had to do.

In the closet was a baseball bat hat he had used to beat many "customers" of Scapelli's senseless. He hadn't used it in a while. Thankfully, Felix did not intend to use it for violence, but just for intimidation.

He left his house casually through the sliding back door, and walked across the freshly-mowed back yard, heading for his neighbors' place. He walked up to their sliding glass door, and smashed it open. No alarms sounded. Good. He made his way through the broken glass and into their kitchen.

Nobody seemed to be home. Even better. Felix went through their cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, looking for any hidden cash they might have, when Namine came into the room, soaking wet and wrapped within a towel.

"Felix!" she said, her mouth dropping into a gape. "What're you _doing_ here?"

"Where do you keep your money?" Vanitas demanded, lowering his voice to intimidate. "I need all of it. Otherwise, I'm gonna beat you half to death with this." He raised the bat threateningly. She took a step back, horrified; this delighted him. Felix took a step forward, and then white hot pain flared in his face as something hit him in the nose, hard. Blood sprayed out like hoses, and he put a hand over the painful flow of crimson. At his feet he saw a hammer on the floor, the business-end of it covered in blood. _His_ blood.

Cloud stood in the living room, fuming, with another tool in his hand, this one a screwdriver. To Felix, it looked very sharp.

"What are you doing in my house, you sonofabitch?"

Felix felt panic flutter in his chest, and decided it was time to retreat. He didn't have enough time to beat the shit out of _both_ of them _and_ search the house for cash. The police were coming, and they were coming fast. He turned and fled through the broken glass door, his neighbor giving chase with that dangerous-looking screwdriver. The two men ran across the lawn, Namine hurrying after, still wrapped in her towel but now holding a kitchen knife.

Vanitas ran into his home and would have closed the door had Cloud not been in the way; he decided to run inside and see if he could get his gun. He made his way into the kitchen, hurrying for the small cabinet where he stored his caliber, and once he had gotten it he would blow this motherfucker to Hell, fuck his girlfriend, then blow _her_ head off too. A little mess for the cops to clean up. Easy peasy, baby.

What Felix was not expecting was Cloud being so close. He felt the tip of the blade slice his back, and he yelped in horror. Thinking he could manage to make it if he jumped, he dove forward yet clumsily fell against the side of the kitchen counter, hitting it with teeth-rattling force. He looked up just in time to watch the glass tube of black fluid roll off from the counter and shatter on the tiled floor beside him. It began to bond with Vanitas yet again, only this time much more forcefully. It clutched at his chest tightly, reeling him in. Horrified, he screamed.

Cloud took a step back, then told his girlfriend, "C'mon. We're getting the fuck out of this place." But he did not move. He kept staring.

The black fluid wrapped around Felix's torso, his legs, his feet, his arms, and began to crawl up his neck. He reached a shadow-covered hand up at Cloud, asking desperately for help. The fluid went into his hair, and began to cover his face. He choked and gagged as it went into his mouth; it tasted a lot like burnt rubber. He put his arm down, the remaining fight in him evaporating, and the fluid covered his vision, went into his eyes, stinging every part of his body.

Cloud watched on in terror as his neighbor was mummified in shadow and lay there, writhing, completely covered in whatever the hell was in that glass tube on the counter.

But then the form before him started to change. And three openings formed in the figure's face, one of which beginning to fill with large, pointed teeth. The other two pulled back to reveal his neighbor's eyes, except now they were both bloodshot with unnatural blue irises with slit pupils, making them cat-like. The shadow-covered fingers slimmed and pointed into bony claws. On the form's black torso glowed red symbols resembling a muscular chest and abs, and soon before Cloud lay a monster that never should have existed, that was just a _man_ a second ago.  
All of these things were horrific, but Cloud did not run out of the building until the creature on the floor laughed. It was a low, raspy, inhuman sound and it would haunt the ex-criminal for the rest of his life.

And an hour later, it was Cloud and Namine who had left Seaside Heights, and Vanitas who had stayed.

* * *

The waves of the Pacific crashed down in explosions of white foam and salt, bringing shells unearthed from their shallows onto the shore of Hawaii. In the water swam hundreds of people, enjoying the clear blue waters, floating in it and splashing one another, not to mention the amusing game of "jump the waves". On the wet part of the sandy shoreline were those who liked to be close to the ocean but not quite daring enough to actually step foot inside. Overall, the atmosphere was one of leisure and happiness, far different from the gray attitude of New York City. People flocked here because, even if they did not know it, they sensed it.

Zexion sensed it, and he hated it.

He walked along the beach in a bathing suit and T-shirt, both of which hung off his skinny body like drapes. Usually in crowded places like this beach, he would walk amongst the many people and daydream about bringing a box of hand grenades and blowing everyone to hell and back. He knew such thoughts were unhealthy, but they were comforting. In a way, they were much like fast food: people ate it all the time because it comforted them, despite bringing them into Death's embrace even quicker than usual.

It was only on days as miserable as this one did he actually go out solely just to think about mass-murder. He had been thinking about Kairi a lot more than usual these days. Part of it he blamed on the Xion-whore, but also he blamed upon himself for dwelling on it. The more he dwelled, the more horrible he felt. It was hard to work past depression.

Zeke Fender kicked a seashell, lifting it off the ground in a spray of sand, then looked at the ocean. In a way, he found the sea to be a lot like himself. On the surface it was pretty to look at (_there's another egotistic thought_, he muttered to himself) but underneath were monstrosities of all sorts, killing each other. Furthermore, the deeper you went, the uglier it got. One of the great paradoxes of the world. The Fendific Ocean. Oh, lord, he could write an entire essay on the Psychology of himself, which mostly consisted of misery and hatred.

Why did he hate? It was a question he had pondered millions of times. It kept him up at night. He had eventually come to the solution that he hated this world because this world hated him. Why else would it deny him who he loved, and held everything he cherished above fire with the intentions of destroying them (and him in the process)?

He walked up onto the boardwalk and got himself a chicken gyro. He sat on a bench on the boardwalk, facing the sea, and ate quietly. On the bench next to him, he saw a man and a woman kissing and laughing and sharing French fries. His heart filled with longing, and for a second he thought he was dying of a heart attack, yet the feeling passed within seconds. While the rest of the world loved one another, it had rejected him and left him sitting alone on a bench, enjoying a snack with no one to share it with, no one to put his arm around, no one to make him feel human.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Zexion was staring at them furtively, imagining himself being a boyfriend or husband. What girl would possibly want a bookworm, psychopathic fuck like him?

That thought almost brought him to tears, something that surprised him; he rarely got even close to crying in public.

_What do I have to live for?_ He asked himself.

The Dusks. That's what.

They were coming in nicely, apparently. He had checked up on one of his subjects this morning, and something incredibly fascinating happened. To an average man it would've been considered eerie, but Zexion found it amazing.

He had observed the fetus using a sonogram, and found its hands were up. One hand showed one tiny little finger, while the other showed all five. Six fingers.

Zexion was Member Six.

Already, the fetus was communicating. It wouldn't be much longer until they came out (unexpected by their mothers), and Zexion would take them back to New York. How he would do that, however, had yet to be planned.

His cell phone rang. Checking the ID, he saw it read "2". Zexion answered it.

"Hello?"

"Zexion?"

"Hello, Xigbar."

"I have news that the Head Honcho said should be reported to you."

"Oh?"

"Oh. I've recently found the location of the shooting-point from which the missiles the Heartless fired came."

Zexion sat up quickly, dropping his gyro onto the floor.

"Shit."

"What?"

"Sorry, two. You were saying?"

"I was saying that the Heartless actually used an _underground bunker_ in D.C. in order to fire these missiles at the Monument. It's incredible, they filled it with tons of weapons stolen from the military."

"How the _hell_ did you figure this out?"

"I was investigating the area. Seems like _not_ having an entire country on your back makes it a lot easier to do that."

"Don't get used to it, two."

Xigbar laughed heartily before saying, "Yeah, right. Anyways, the bunker is emptied out, and it's really fucking cool. I'm gonna be using it as a space to horde our weapons thus far. Sound good?"

"Sounds excellent. Any new toys I should be aware of?"

"Definitely. M.O.A.B. bombs. Had some guys from Scapelli's group smuggle a couple to me."

"Holy Hell. Don't they detonate at a range of five football fields?"

"Six," corrected Xigbar proudly. "And we've got ten of them. They'll be fun to use when the Opposition inevitably arises to try and murder us all."

"I don't think that will happen."

"Big Guy says it might. Speaking of which, he's kinda mad right now. Apparently Demyx got himself shot up in a drive-by, and Luxord has vanished off the face of the fucking Earth."

"Is Demyx okay?"

"Yeah, he's recovering. He'll be fine, that big baby."

"What news of Moloch?"

"Ha! I was hoping you'd say that. I've got him, intercepted him as he tried to make a break for it from Miami. How else do you think I was able to get inside the bunker?"

"Is he alive?" asked Zexion casually. The couple turned on their bench, alarmed. He scowled at them and they began to mutter to each other.

"Oh, yes," said Xigbar. "He's very much alive, but for how much longer I cannot know for sure. Maybe Vexen can put the Virus in his semen or something…assuming he ever fucks."

"Wouldn't work. Eight-month pregnancies haven't been very palatable recently. So I doubt a full-pregnancy would suffice…"

"Ah, really? Shit. Well, maybe we'll just kill him. One less shit-eating Heartless makes a better world, in my opinion."

"Same here. Go ahead."

A single retort came from the other end of the phone. Zexion winced.

Xigbar spoke again, "Mmkay. He's dead. Wait, no…shit. He's alive. He's whimpering and crying. _Hey, shut up, fucker_!" Three more retorts. Zexion smiled maliciously. The couple next to him stood up and walked away, looking troubled.

"Is he dead _now_?" asked Zexion, somewhat amused.

"I think…holy shit…he's still twitching."

"Are you _really_ a professional assassin, or are you just toying with us, Xigbar?"

"Hang on a sec." Another bang. "There. Got him in the fucking head. What a painful way to die. Poor bastard."

"I don't care," said Zexion. He meant it. "I've got things to do, Xigbar. Thanks for the information, though."

"Anytime, man. Bye."

Zexion hung up without saying it back.

* * *

Sora, Kairi, Donald, Goofy, and Demyx walked down the dark hallway to the familiar door and knocked on it three times. Senator Mouse opened the door, beaming at all of them, then frowning when he looked at Demyx.

"Picard," he said. "Where is Picard?"

"Dead," muttered Sora. He felt sick saying it. The image of Luxord falling from his hotel room, story after story, screaming in terror and looking at Sora with white eyes as big as dinner plates, still haunted him. He tried and tried to push the thought from his mind, but it always resurfaced. It had been one of the most disturbing things he had ever seen, and ever since his parents had been kidnapped, he had seen a _lot_ of bad stuff. On the plane ride home, he had wondered what kept him going, what kept him from quitting. And, so far, he didn't have an answer.

"How?" whispered Mickey, his eyes wide in shock.

"He…he fell," said Kairi. She was pale in the face.

"Shit," muttered Mickey. "Alright, come in, come in. Bring Demyx here inside."

They went into the familiar penthouse, only this time there were two men sitting on one of the fancy couches that Mickey had furnished his house with.

"Sora, Kairi, Goofy, Donald," said Mickey. "This is Detective Judas Braig and Officer Daniel Everett. They've joined our little expedition in pursuit of the good of mankind."

Sora shook hands with both Braig and Everett. Braig was a kind, strong man who Sora took a liking to instantly. There was a fatherly air to him, protective and reassuring, the kind of guy you want on your side. Everett was by far much smaller than Braig, and although very friendly, did not give off the same vibe.

"Now that we're all acquainted," said Mick. "I do believe it's time to move onto why we're all here."

Every person in the room looked directly at Demyx, who was sitting in a chair with both Don and Goofy pointing their guns at him. Demyx swallowed.

"I'll tell you anything!" he cried. "Anything! Please, just don't hurt me!"

Sora and Kairi weren't the only ones disturbed by Luxord's death, it seemed.

Braig remarked, "Well, that was easy. I'll be going, then…" Sora and Everett laughed, but Mick and Kairi stayed solemn.

Mick demanded, "You work for Christopher Xehanort, correct?"

Demyx nodded, tears streaming out of his eyes.

"And this Xehanort has recruited you and twelve other murderers, correct?"

"_You don't know what it's like!_" Demyx screamed, alarming everyone in the penthouse. "_You have NO IDEA what it's like to be one of us! To have to go through SHIT EVERYDAY from people like YOU! YOU HAVE NO IDEA!_"

"No idea?" repeated Mick furiously. "_No idea_? We ALL have problems, Damien Taylor! Every last one of us! We've all been victimized, we've all been cheated on, lied to, abused, and hurt! But you want to know what really makes the man, _Demyx_? It's choosing to keep your head straight and keep right on trucking. There may be no God, no Devil, but there _is_ a good and evil, and it's decided on how you react to the things that happen."

Cheeks glazed, eyes bloodshot, Demyx snarled, "You're all the waste of the world, and we're going to blow through you like tissue paper."

"You try it," dared Mick through grit teeth. Sora had never seen the Senator so angry before. "You _fucking_ try it! What is the Organization's plan?"

"Did you not hear me? To kill you all! All of you! Everyone on the planet Earth besides us! Dead! They're breeding some biological weapon to strip people of their humanity, turn them into creatures, make them our slaves! They're working strenuously over it!"

Mick walked away from the musician and into the kitchen. He poured himself a shot of vodka, downed it, sighed, and then walked back.

"Is that it?"

"Yes," said Demyx, but Sora saw something flash in the rock star's eyes as he said that. Sora frowned, troubled, but nobody else seemed to notice.

"Where are these other twelve?" demanded Mick.

"Everywhere. Not in one location."

"Any ideas?"

"Just for one." Demyx's eyes darkened. They looked inhuman. "Lexaeus. He's in Pennsylvania, somewhere along the Delaware. That's all I know."

"What about Ryan Hall?" asked Sora.

"I don't know."

"Hall?" asked Braig. He exchanged a look with Everett. "He's a missing boy. His parents were found, dead, just little while ago."

"Around the time that fucker with the Keyblades attacked us," said Sora grimly.

Mick nodded slowly, then said to Don and Goofy, "Keep him locked in my room. It's quite a height, so he won't be able to leave…unless he wants to suffer the same fate as his friend Luxord."

Demyx shuddered, but let himself go with the two agents.

Braig whistled. "Well, that got hot."

Mick sighed, "Why, oh _why_, do people do these kinds of things?"

"So the rest of us can enjoy being normal," said Braig sincerely. "C'mon, Senator. Have a drink. Hell, why don't we all have one?"

They sat down at the kitchen table, sipping wines and whiskeys, telling jokes and talking about what their next move was.

"Sora," said Mickey suddenly. "I had almost forgotten. You do realize that you no longer have to work for me anymore, correct? You found out what happened to your parents…you _are_ free to leave."

Sora placed his glass down and looked around at everyone. Mick, Kairi, Don, Goofy, even Braig and Everett. And, suddenly, he had an answer for his question on the plane. When his parents had been taken away from him forever, he had been welcomed into a _new_ family, where the old familiar feeling of comfort was there. These people would die for him, and he would surely do the same, because in a world full of cruelty and death, when people had each other it was what inspired them to keep going.

"Nah," said Sora, looking at Kairi. She was smiling. His heart leapt. "Nah, I'm in this for the long run. I'm in this with all of you."

Mick smiled, and there was something in that smile Sora had never seen before. Not on anyone's face, not even his father's. And that was pride. Sora felt hot tears sting at the corner of his eyes, but he fought them with a blink and a swig of alcohol.

He was happy to know that whatever threats lay ahead, whatever monsters lurked in the corners for them, whatever troubles or losses they will have to face, they would push through it, courageously and all together. This was the table where the soldiers of Good would eat and drink, where they wait to jump into action, where they would become heroes.

* * *

Drake, the seventeen-year-old lifeguard situated on the shore of Seaside Heights, was blowing his whistle and rushing over to get people away from under the large dock that held up many of the boardwalk's attractions. There were lots of pillars holding it up, and one strong wave could have someone pinned. Most of the people he blew the whistle at complied at once, but one man kept on walking in.

"Dammit," muttered Drake, and rushed underneath the shade of the docks.

He stood behind one of the pillars, covered in shadows.

"Yo!" barked Drake. "Did you hear me whistle? Hey, I'm talkin' to you!"

He put a hand on the man's shoulder, and the person whipped around to reveal that it wasn't a man, but a _thing_, a thing covered in shadows with a wicked, monstrous grin on its face full of long, yellow teeth. It gave an inhuman shriek and with a quick motion of its hand, Drake was flying out from under the boardwalk and landing in the hot sand.

In remarkable pain, his eyes had been closed tight, but when he opened them he saw the tip of something black pointing directly between his eyes. The thing from under the boardwalk was holding some demonic blade to the hapless lifeguard.

The shadows of the humanoid's face pulled back to reveal a handsome yet brutish face of a man, the tombstone teeth still grinning at Drake. Drake knew this guy-he was a local. Vanitas his name was.

_He's not gonna_- was all Drake could think before Felix Vanitas plunged the blade into his skull, killing him instantly.

Void pulled itself back over Felix's face, making it the monstrosity it was a second ago, and he screeched in his newfound voice. He jumped; he could jump _high_ now. And not only that; he had found, within his house, that the Void-fluid was sticky enough at the base to allow him to walk on walls. This gift of his grandfather's was _magnificent_.

He turned his hellish head to a rather large woman who was screaming to the heavens at this abomination. Laughing maliciously, Vanitas walked forward to finish her off as well.

It was going to be a good evening, he thought as the sun set.

* * *

Sora sat on the bed with Kairi, the two staring into each other's eyes as the clock struck midnight. Kairi was wearing absolutely nothing, and although her naked form was beautiful, there was a lively light in her eyes that had Sora transfixed. He was naked as well, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Kairi," he croaked, his heart thudding in his chest. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Of course," she replied with a laugh, and laid on top of him.

When he came, he threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling and almost yelling aloud; the climax was intense, and he heard and felt Kairi share it with him. They had not used protection, however Kairi had taken pills beforehand, so nothing could disturb their passion. As Sora gasped for breath, sweat running down his body, Kairi dismounted and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Wow…" he whispered. "Oh, wow."

She breathed, "I know. Same with me." She rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom attached to the bedroom, where she put on a fuzzy bathrobe. Then she went back to the bed and cuddled up next to her lover. Sora instinctively hugged her tightly, and he suddenly felt very emotional being in this relationship that must be kept secret from others, for it could endanger their lives if made apparent.

"That was very interesting with Demyx earlier," she murmured as they both began to doze off.

"Mhmm," Sora agreed drowsily, his eyes closed.

"Mick got really angry."

"I know. He seemed to really hate Demyx."

"Maybe Demyx is right, though," said Kairi. "Maybe we don't know what it's like. Maybe we don't know how his mind works."

"There's good in the world, Kairi, but then there is also evil."

She looked at him harshly and said, "Not all the time, Sora. Not all the time."

"Hmm?"

"You'd be surprised to see what some monsters really are. Some may cause trouble just for laughs, yes, but others are covering up sensitivity."

"Same difference."

"No, it really isn't!" She turned her whole body to face him, her breasts pressing against his chest. He knew she was sincere at the moment, but a flush crept up on his face nonetheless. "You need to understand this, Sora…a lot of people who are considered 'bad' or 'evil'…they…they're just lonely."

Sora chewed it over for a bit before saying, "True. Very true. You're a smart girl, you know that?"

She smiled at him and they kissed again before settling down to sleep.

* * *

Axel walked down the hallway full of bedrooms in Oblivion Labs, his face tightly set, his eyes dark and humorless, his intentions deceitful and betraying. Nobody had seen him like this, thank God, but although he was normally a happy-go-lucky guy, today he was rather pissed. More pissy than he had ever been in his entire life, even. And all of it was directed at that pink-haired fucker, Marluxia.

Roxas had told Axel everything, spilled his guts about the man who had suddenly run out of Marluxia's room and into the lobby, about Marluxia threatening to kill him for investigating…it was a real mind-effer. Nothin' funny about that, no sir. Action needed to be taken, but who the hell would believe him and Roxas, of all people? Nobody. Especially not the Big Guy, who _trusted_ Marluxia for whatever reason. Secrecy and lies was how they would need to pull off getting rid of Marluxia for what he'd done…but it would require the work of a cunning smooth-talker.

And Axel was the motherfucking guy.

He knocked on Marluxia's door twice. The pink-haired fiend opened it a crack and peered out.

"What do _you_ want?" the killer demanded.

"To talk to you about Roxas," said Axel. "I heard he accused you of shit that wasn't too polite."

Marluxia opened the door all the way. "Traitor he called me!" he cried. "_Traitor_! I'll kill that little bastard, gut him alive, peel his skin off and make him eat it while I chop off his dick and feed it to rats! Lousy snoop, lousy _snoop_…"

"Calm down, man," said Axel, putting a hand on the freak's shoulder. "I just wanna say…I hate the little piss-ant, too, and I want him to learn a fucking lesson."

Marluxia snarled, "Fuck you, Guido. I kill alone."

"But, my dude, _killing_ him won't do anything! You kill people, I know that, that's all fine and dandy, but, man, in order to leave an _impact_, you gotta do something worse! Much worse!"

"But…but what can I do?"

"The girl," said Axel. "Xion."

Marluxia's looked at the pyromaniac sharply. "What about her?"

"She's not a part of the Organization, remember? She's just in because Roxas is in. Which means, technically, she's an open target."

Marluxia stared at Axel warily.

Axel pressed on, "Vexen gave _you_ an impregnation thing, right? It just so happens Xion is a woman who _can_ get pregnant. I'm sure you know that. What would hurt Roxas more…a quick death from a scythe-wound, or the fact that his girl is with a child that isn't his?"

A slow smile spread on Marluxia's lips. "I like the way you think, Guido. But the whore's in Hawaii."

"She's coming back with the Head Honcho in three days," said Axel, wagging a finger. "Got it memorized? Commit that shit to memory, man."

"But…but he wasn't on the plane! Neither was she!"  
"They had business on the coast," said Axel. This was true; Xehanort had wanted to test some weapons he had gotten from Victor Vanitas, and he invited Xion to come along to play with the new toys on some desolate beach.

"Oh, I see…okay, fine!" Marluxia grinned. "Committed to memory. Three days."

"Okay, cool beans, dude. But now you need a place to do it."

"What's wrong with here?"

Axel frowned, "What if a superior sees you? Then they'll think you really _are_ a traitor. I have a place you can go. I do believe it's a place of significance to you…it was where you finally got fully-initiated."

Marluxia breathed in sharply and said, "The hotel?"

"The hotel. Where it all began for you, man. What would make a better statement?"

Marluxia radiated good cheer. "You're right! Excellent! Thank you, Guid-er, Axel, I mean. Thank you…Axel…yes…" He slowly shut the door.

Axel exhaled deeply. He had been fighting the urge to break the fucker's neck throughout that entire conversation. Instead of screaming, which he wanted to do so very badly, he calmly pulled out his cell phone and called Xigbar up.

"What d'you want, fire-crotch?"

"C-4," said Axel instantly, not wasting time on the trivial jokey routine.

"What the…fuck. Why?"

"I need it for a mission the Big Guy wants me to do," Axel lied easily. "I need enough to destroy a building."

"How big?"

"Let me rephrase that…I need enough C-4 to destroy a fancy hotel within the city limits. An untrustworthy senator is staying there."

"I can hook you up," said Xigbar. "No problem."

"That's not all," said Axel. "I don't want the detonation timed, I want it done via remote signals."

"From how far?"

"Maybe the width a New York street."

"Done deal, m'man. You're gonna have to drive down here to D.C. to get it, though; we're using the Heartless-bunker to store our shit."

"Isn't that kind of fucking dangerous, dude?"

"Uhhh, not really. The Heartless fired the missiles from here, but they made it look like it came from a jet plane. Smart fuckers. I killed the one of the guys who programmed it, though."

"Moloch?"

"Yeah."

"Did he scream?"

"Like a girl."

"Cool."

"Tell me about it. How's my Xbox?"

"I wasn't aware you owned an Xbox, Xigbar. Unless you're referring to my machine in the lobby, in which case you must be fucking teasing me with the pretense that it's in some way yours."

"Suck my pistol, fire-crotch."

"Once you go red, you never go back, man."

Xigbar laughed, but then sobered up and said, "The Aqua-bitch disappeared off the face of the Earth. So try not to mention it with the Big Guy around."

"He's not here, but Marluxia is; what happened to her?"

"Her wingman got her out of that place, and now they're somewhere in Miami. Xaldin and Larxene were uber-pissed and kept up the hunt, but Marluxia said he had business to take care of there at the Labs, so he went home."

_To kill my fucking friend_, thought Axel angrily, but said, "Oh, okay. Cool story, bro."

"Fuck you sideways."

"Bye, Xiggy Pop."

"Later, you fucking firebug."

Axel hung up and went down the elevator to the lobby.

_Betraying,_ he thought. _I am betraying the Organization_.

It was true; he was. And if anyone found out, he would be slaughtered. But Roxas was his _friend_, dammit. And the plan was truly ingenious…Xion would be taken for a moment, and then Axel would go in with some other Member to get her within the hotel…except he personally would also attack Marluxia, stick him to something, and blow the fucking place to smithereens once he himself was safely out of it. No accounts, no witnesses, nothing except Xion's word that Marluxia had kidnapped her (common sense, wasn't it?) and Roxas' accounts with the man and murderous Marluxia. Plus, the fucking psycho was already outta his mind, it made _sense_ that he'd snap eventually. Everything would go smoothly.

But that did not ease Axel's worries, for soon it would be three days from now and he would actually have to _act_ on this.

_Three days_, he worried.

Three days.

* * *

Roxas was walking on the sidewalks of Manhattan amongst thousands of others, paranoid and afraid, as the sun rose. It was six AM; twelve hours after Felix's assault at Seaside Heights, and six hours after Sora and Kairi had made love.

Marluxia had come back home, and as long as he stayed in Oblivion Labs, Roxas would be anywhere else. And, when Xion came back with the Superior, she would, too. Until Axel figured this all out. Marluxia was an enemy that had to be eliminated, or everyone's life would be at stake. But most importantly, Xion's.

* * *

"Wake up, Sora!"

Sora awoke with a jolt; everyone was in his room, Mick, Donald, Goofy, Braig, and Everett. The sun was rising outside.

"What?" he asked irritably. Kairi was stirring next to him.

"We need you to get dressed," said Braig. "We've heard reports of a stranger lurking around the Delaware. Looks like Demyx was telling the truth."

"Lexaeus?" asked Sora, mouth dropping open. "We've found him?"

"We've found him," said Mick, beaming. "Come in the kitchen and eat real quick, we'll tell you all about it."

They exited the bedroom, and when they saw what was in the living room, Mick audibly groaned.

"_No_…"

* * *

A man in the city was late for his job interview, and was speeding horribly down the street, blowing past lights dangerously during rush hour and cutting traffic. From his right, another car moved and startled him. He swerved, hitting the sidewalk.

Roxas heard the crushing of bones and the screams of agony as the people behind him were run over, and he turned just in time to see the front of the car coming towards him before he hit his head painfully on the hood of it and passed out cold.

* * *

Sora, Mick, Donald, Goofy, Kairi, Braig, and Everett looked in horror as the furniture was tipped over messily and the apartment door was broken open, almost splintering off its hinges. It must've had been done sometime through the night, for on the walls read a message: "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL".

"Oh, no," cried Kairi. "Oh, no, no, _no_…"

"Dammit," Mick swore.

Demyx had escaped.

* * *

**So sorry to all who were expecting a big spectacle, but we must begin to tie up lose ends and cut down the losers. I will get you your next chapter as soon as possible after deliberation with DeadShut. It might be ginormous. I can't tell right now.  
**

**But, for now, go to The Nobody Virus Wiki and tell us what you think. It's not complete, though. We are always adding new pages and descriptions. We bid you adieu. **

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)  
**


	23. More Complicated Than Originally Planned

**Good afternoon all. Haji here with your next chapter. Worked damn hard on it too. So, there.**

**Anyway, the time constraints set up by DeadShut in the previous chapter mean that the time stamp is necessary to keep you all in the loop as to what is going on. So make sure you pay attention or you will end up getting yourself lost.**** You will love every word, I promise.**

**So...enjoy.**

* * *

Day One:

6:30 AM

Sora and Kairi stood next to each other. They had their fingers interlaced, trembling and reluctant to let go of the other. They both wore taunt frowns as Mick handed them each a wad of money and a gun.

"It's important that you do exactly what I tell you to," Mick said solemnly. "It's almost over, I can feel it. I have already called Riku and told him my plans. Now, you two must complete this mission. I expect you to be safe and alert. Do you understand?"

Sora and Kairi nodded in unison, though their grip on each other's hands tightened. Mick frowned deeper.

"Sora, you and Don will be heading to Delaware to find this Lexaeus person." Sora nodded and Don placed a hand on his shoulder. "I want you two to leave immediately and get there as fast as possible. Once you find him, get whatever information you can force out of him, and then take him into custody if you can. If he shows any of the same hostility Demyx had, kill him. Kairi and Goofy will try to find Demyx."

Sora gulped. There it was again, that feeling of disgust whenever killing for the common good was presented. But, he understood that the Organization that Lexaeus was a part of was evil. More evil than any conspiracy or mafia. They were real, not some shadow out of a children's book. Demyx had proved that, and things were starting to mount on top of each other more, creating this teetering mountain of mayhem. And he was one of the few who were holding this mountain up.

But why? He no longer had to stay tethered to Mick's cause. Mick had even stated himself that Sora didn't need to stay. He had found the monsters that had taken his parents, and found that he no longer had them. So why did he stay?

_To bring those monsters down, _Sora thought angrily. _To be with Kairi?_

It had to have been much bigger than that. Much bigger. It couldn't just be for personal justice. That wasn't enough. It had to be for the protection of the human race, and even that wasn't enough. Sora just felt this need to stop whatever devastation that wasn't here yet.

Even as he kissed Kairi goodbye, whispered his love and good lucks, and got into the car with Don, he felt this foreboding wind in his head. He knew it stemmed from the Keyblade, but it sent this constant chill up his spine. And flashes of gray flickered before his eyes.

"Don't worry," Don said softly, "Goofy will take good care of her."

Sora mumbled a quick answer and stared out the window. Kairi and Goofy went to find Demyx, who was sure to be somewhere in the bowels of New York. Sora didn't want to leave her by herself—or even with Goofy—to find this maniac musician with a death wish for her. Don could see this, and he offered comforting words, but he had never really been good at telling white lies to ease someone's mind or spare their feelings.

Could I pick your brain, Sora?"

Sora snapped out of his quiet stupor. "Sure, I guess."

"Why do you love her so much?" Don asked. "Kairi. Why do you love her?"

Sora was silent for a few minutes. "Because, she's so kind and beautiful, and smart."

"That can't be the only reason," Don said quickly. He sounded serious, and Sora was caught off guard by the intensity of his questioning.

"Because she's innocent," Sora replied. "Even through all this hardship, she is innocent. Uncorrupted. She cares so much for people. Even Demyx, and she gives me hope and courage. And she doesn't judge me because I have killed people, and she is so understanding. And…"

"You don't know why?" Don offered. "You just do?"

Sora opened his mouth and closed it again. He smiled and nodded.

"Good," Don said. "You love her—for whatever reason. And you protect her from everything. You hear me?"

"I promise," Sora said, crossing his heart.

Don grunted in approval and flipped the radio on.

* * *

Riku woke early that day to his phone ringing on the bedside table. Hayner had let him stay the night on the request of Aqua through Isa. But, the phone call was Mick, and it troubled him.

Mick wanted Diz. Riku wasn't troubled with the simple request itself, but more the fact that he had been dreaming about it for the past couple of days. Diz was somewhere hiding in Florida because the lovely Sunshine State was not a part of Aqua's empire. Riku had distinct images of the signs in the area, nothing more. But, nevertheless, he dressed and headed to Mick's private airport to go to Miami. The Magic City.

He wasn't sure why he had to get there so urgently. Maybe it was because he had the same feeling of dread when he dwelled on Aqua as he did when he couldn't concentrate on anything but the formula that was still floating in his mind. His conscious decision to go to Miami was because Aqua was there, but, maybe, his subconscious was telling him that he needed to prevent something from happening to her.

Mick met him outside a sleek jet in the hangar of his airport. He was standing with two men Riku hadn't seen before, and he instantly became defensive.

"Don't worry, Riku," Mick said, patting his shoulders. "They're with me. Detective Braig and Officer Everett. They're going to help me with a little mission of my own."

Riku eyed them, but lowered his guard and cracked a smile.

"Do you think you know where Diz is hiding?" Mick asked. Braig leaned in a little, interested.

Riku frowned again. "I think I have an idea. But I don't want to talk about it. Not here."

Mick nodded. "I understand. Just be careful, okay? I think the danger has become much more obvious. Don't trust anyone out there. You said you needed to get to Miami, right?"

Riku nodded and stepped onto the plane, bowing his head respectively. He was going to be careful, and take care this itch that was plaguing the back of his mind. Acknowledge and move on.

And it would be a few more hours until he made it to The Magic City, and to Aqua.

* * *

He had escaped.

Through all the harassment, torture, and interrogations, he had escaped, and the first thing he did was go back to Oblivion Labs. Marluxia briefly peered out of his room, but slammed the door as soon as he saw his visitor was Demyx. But, Demyx paid him no mind, he had to plan. He was going to kill his captors. All of them.

He rummaged through his belongings, throwing things across his room. The walls were a deep blue that was only matching by the color of the ocean itself. There were no pictures, but the drawers, cabinets and closet doors were bright, like the corals of his home beach. The gentle sound of waves crashing on sand echoed off the walls and the distant calls of Seagulls made one feel as if the beach were right outside.

However, Demyx's determination didn't match the calm room around him. In fact, describing the way he growled his threats and curses would be similar to describing the beginnings of a hurricane. Outwardly frustrated, but building into a force that would sweep everything in its path away.

His phone rang in his pocket, and Demyx caught his breath before answering.

"Hello?"

"Demyx?"

Demyx hissed. "What do you want, Axel?"

"Whoa, there's no need to get pissy with me," Axel said. "I just wanted to know how you were doing. Xiggy told me you got shot."

Demyx opened his mouth to correct him, but he thought that if he told Axel that he had been kidnapped, Axel would kill that stupid fucking Senator and his idiot lackeys before he could. "Uh, yeah, I'm doing fine. They let me out today. I'm still a little sore, but I'll be okay."

Axel laughed. "Yeah, you'll be fine. Listen, I wanna see your scar when I get back, alright?"

"Where are you?"

Axel paused. "I'm being a superspy. Then I'm going to probably get me some pussy, smoke some weed, and get drunk. Like usual. Then I might blow the shit out somethin'."

Demyx was only half paying attention. "Hey, do you have any spare weapons?"

"Yeah," Axel said. "Why?" He paused again. "On second thought, I don't give a shit. Just don't touch my C-4."

"Thanks."

"No problem, Demy. Make sure you don't blow your arm off." Axel chuckled. "Then you'll never get off again."

"Asshole."

"Love ya."

Axel hung up before Demyx could answer. He was sitting in the lobby of the very hotel Marluxia was going to die in. He was pouring over the blueprints for the building, and sipping a coffee. He had fastened himself a neat little lie and an inspector's uniform. When he displayed his fake ID badge, the hotel manager was more than happy—and a little terrified—to show Axel around the building. He pointed out every secret nook and hidden cranny that the hotel had, and gave him inside tips on how to escape quickly without being seen.

And, now, Axel was sitting in the lobby, marking every place he was going to plant a block of C-4. All he could think about was murdering that pink motherfucker. He couldn't even entirely focus. Xigbar had promised him a shitload of explosives, but he wasn't going to get the chance to leave New York City until he had all his plans in place. So, for now, he was stuck.

He had told Roxas that he couldn't stay in the Labs while Marluxia was there. So, Axel could relax a little bit about that. Roxas wasn't at the Labs, _he_ wasn't at the Labs, so there was no need to worry about bloodshed. At least not yet.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, inspector?"

Axel looked up. The hotel manager was smiling falsely at him. "Yeah, I noticed that you had quite a bit of damage to your upper level ceilings. I saw mold in your ventilation system, and your gas lines are exposed in the kitchens."

The hotel manager's eyes widened. "This is not possible."

Axel nodded arrogantly. "Oh, yes it is. So, you'll have to shut down."

"But—"

"No buts," Axel interrupted. "I want this place shut down in three days time, and I want the entire place lined in plastic."

"Plastic?"

"Unless you'd prefer to line the whole place in Styrofoam."

The hotel manager frowned and tears welled in the corners of his eyes. "Of course."

Axel frowned slightly, feigning concern. "It'll only be for one day, I promise. Then, you'll never have to worry about this place again. I'll forgo the damage to the ceilings, but you'll have to flush the ventilation system. It'll take no longer than a day."

The hotel manager turned away after signing some false documents. Axel leaned back in his chair completely satisfied with the lie he told. The lie was so flawless, that Axel declined food for fear of air borne pathogens. He instead stood up and hurried across the street, shedding his uniform and melding into the background. The computer store had been vandalized, and Axel wanted to know what had been taken.

After all, Xehanort had been instructing him to watch this store for years. Axel had studied the place for so long, he memorized its schedule, right down to the days maintenance would come and the days it would get deliveries. Though, one thing Axel noticed after a very short period of time, was that it was never open.

Axel ducked under the yellow CAUTION tape and stepped into the ruins of the destroyed store. He had pretended to be a cop so many times in his career that he had picked up a few skills along the way. But, even the most idiotic forensic scientist could tell that there had been a fight. Axel searched the floor and walls.

It looked like someone had come first, and spent quite a bit of time alone until two more people came in. It looked like two men fought, or at least two older teens fought, and a third person stood by, only to interrupt at the last minute. Then, the loser was taken out by a fourth person and the store hadn't been touched again until the police came to investigate.

Not a bad guess. Zexion would have been proud of his deductions.

_If only he didn't have his head up his ass all the time, _Axel thought bitterly.

He moved around the piles of broken computer parts and found an old computer set up in the back room. It had to have been an early model Macintosh. The screen was black, but the power button still glowed an eerie green. Axel brushed the dust off the screen and pressed the keyboard. The whirr of the computer waking up broke the silence and Axel's skin tinged blue and the monitor came to life.

He frowned as black numbers drifted lazily on the screen and an otherworldly, high-pitched screech came from the front of the store. Axel looked into the storefront and found blue lights displaying the same number as on the computer screen. He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He turned to an old TV and kicked it absently. It flickered on and a news broadcast greeted him with that morning's traffic report.

"Xehanort?"

"Ah, Axel!" Xehanort answered happily. "How are you this fine morning? Keeping busy, I hope."

"'Fraid so, sir," Axel replied, laughing. "Listen, you know that computer store that's across the street from Marluxia's initiation? The one you had me watch?"

"Yes."

"And you remember when you showed me your notes from the eighties research project?" Axel asked. "The ones you nearly had a heart attack over?"

"Uh-huh."

Axel stared at the numbers. "I think I found it. Or at least part of it."

Xehanort didn't speak for a long time. Axel was waiting for the burst of joy—as Superior was expected to display—but it never came. There was only silence.

"Well, I'll take the thing to Vexen," Axel whispered. "If you're still there."

Axel hung up the phone and turned back to the TV after gathering the strange star-like devices from the corners of the room. The woman on the news was smiling as if she was relieved, and the old speakers exuded this hopeful music.

_Ryan Hall was rushed to the hospital after getting hit by a speeding driver earlier this morning. He has been escorted to Lenox Hill Hospital in Manhattan and is currently in critical condition. Ryan's parents were found dead…_

But Axel didn't stay to hear the rest of it. He had left as soon as he heard Roxas was in the hospital. He grabbed a bag, threw the star-like devices in it as he rushed out the door and sprinted down the street, fear engulfing every fiber of his being. He jumped down the stairs to the subway, thinking about only one thing.

Roxas was vulnerable, and he had to get there before anything bad happened to him. He glanced down at his watch. Not even a whole hour after the sun rose.

7:10 AM

Aqua had stayed up the entire night, talking to Isa. She couldn't let her body fall asleep while the Red Birds were still in her system. She needed to make sure that her body had flushed most of the downers before she could even think about closing her eyes.

"You need to sleep," Isa said after another fifteen minutes passed.

"I can't," Aqua growled. She shook her head. "I need to make sure that I won't die if I do. Just a few more hours."

"We could go for a walk if you like," Isa offered. He wasn't strong enough to fight Xaldin if he showed up again, but he had a gun. He stood up and stretched. He hated seeing Aqua in such a state.

She was literally scratching herself to stay awake. Her arms were scarred and irritated. They bled slightly, but the blood had clotted and turned black. She looked a mess, but she still managed to keep her refined beauty.

Aqua blinked. "No. I'm okay. I'll sleep on the plane to New York. I just need to keep busy. Read a book or something. Watch a movie."

Isa sat back down next to her and pulled her into his arms. He nuzzled her head and sniffed her hair. It smelled like coconuts and chocolate, and he laughed as quietly as he could.

Aqua chuckled. "What's so funny?"

Isa couldn't beat away that feeling of nostalgia that began to rise in his chest. That nostalgia of the their days in New York before Aqua became such a hardened gangster. "You smell like an Almond Joy."

Aqua looked at him, confused. "That's not funny."

The look on her face made Isa laugh harder. And he wasn't entirely sure f it, but he felt _happy _for the first time in a long while. Not angry, or jealous, or anxious. Aqua giggled with him, and his heart raced. It had to have been a combination of his exhaustion and the bouncy atmosphere of Miami that made him kiss Aqua.

And it had to have been the same thing that made Aqua run her fingers through his hair and kiss him back. But, whatever it was, they ended up making a connection that neither one thought could happen between them. It brought them closer than they had ever been before, closer than any partnership in the past. Their names were on the lips of each other, their bodies only showing affections for their opposites.

They were no longer enemies, no longer friends, but that fine line between the two that made them complete. They had finally shared everything there was to share in the world.

And Isa couldn't help but feel that secret victory over Riku.

* * *

Kairi and Goofy had spent most of their time moving from subway to subway, hoping to run into Demyx somewhere in the belly of the city. They figured that he would try to lay low for a little while, and the underground was the best place to hide from kidnappers. Goofy stayed close to Kairi, making sure to not let her out of his sight for a moment. He had promised Sora that he would stay extra close to her.

"How are we going to take him quietly?" Kairi asked. "There are so many people, and he is not going to go without putting up a fight."

Goofy frowned. "I'm not sure, but we'll get to that when we actually find him. If push comes to shove, I'll restrain him, and get arrested for firing a gun in a public place."

Kairi nodded solemnly. "I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me. Too."

They sat on the subway, listening on any conversation they could catch over the roar of the train's horns echoing in the tunnels. So far, the only thing they could find was what Mick had put out there. "Demyx" had been released from the hospital in perfect health. And not much more than that.

As Goofy and Kairi stepped off their last train for the morning, Kairi bumped into a man who seemed to be a rush. He had dyed red hair, and he looked panicked and scared.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Kairi turned on her heels as the door closed and the departure bell rang. He looked vaguely familiar.

"Lea!" She cried.

Axel frowned. The train pulled away, and he cursed under his breath. He had recognized her as well, but he tried to pass of her exclamation with a look of confusion. He wasn't sure how well it worked, but he really didn't care about it too much. He was much more concerned with Roxas.

"Who's Lea?" Goofy asked after the roar of the train died down.

Kairi shook her head. "Nobody. I thought I recognized someone I knew. I guess it wasn't him."

Goofy shrugged and made his way above ground. He figured they would have a little better luck asking around the street vendors. Kairi followed, but that face burned in her mind. It was the same one that was afraid of a monster at Club Heartless. The very same look of fear and desperation.

But, she had to focus on the task Mick had given her. She had to find Demyx. Before he found her.

* * *

Vexen was staring at The Womb as Dusk moved about inside. It was growing at an exponential rate again, and it had started communicating. At first, it had only made minute hand gestures, but it had started to make sounds. Mostly clicks and hisses, but it would react to things Vexen asked.

And Vexen had been halfway through a psychology textbook when Demyx burst into his lab, huffing angrily.

"For the love of God," Vexen cried, snapping his book shut. "What is it?"

Dusk shuddered in The Womb and clicked in protest. Vexen placed his hand on the glass, and Dusk moved closer to the small patch of warmth, though he was still restrained in movement. Demyx stared at Dusk, completely disgusted by the creature floating in the fluid. But, he ignored that feeling and spoke to Vexen heatedly.

"I need to kill someone," Demyx said.

Vexen looked up, his anger evaporating. "I thought Xehanort wanted people to live now. The Virus is almost ready."

Demyx crossed his arms. "But, he only wants people to who aren't a danger to the Organization. These people must die."

Vexen thought for a moment before he spoke. He seemed to be searching his mind. "You know I only specialize in certain kinds of weapons, Demyx. If you want them to just die, why not ask Axel to blow them to Hell? He'd be more than happy to."

"I need to do this myself."

Vexen shrugged and moved around his lab. He pushed rolling chalkboards out of the way and closed filing cabinet drawers. He opened a door and stepped into a room that was tucked out of the way. Demyx followed and was greeted by walls lined with strange looking items.

"I was one of the six founding members, you know," Vexen explained proudly. "For a long time, Xehanort had me create weapons that would blow the minds of today's top scientists."

Demyx nodded in false interest. He wasn't really interested in Vexen's stories. He just wanted a weapon that could kill in the most painful way imaginable.

"I focused mostly on the elements," Vexen said. "Ice and water specifically, since both possess incredibly destructive natures though they generally benevolent. And there's something I created that could agitate the molecules in water so quickly, that the water would boil and then explode into steam in an instant. Now, if I could only find it."

Demyx became extremely alert at the sound of a weapon that could boil water instantly. The things it could do to the human body. Vexen pulled a set of thick metallic strings from a locked drawer. He laid it on a table and pointed to the various tiny switches that were dotted along the side.

"It works a lot like playing the guitar. You flip these switches to direct a super focused sound wave at any body of water, and it'll start to boil." He placed a glass of water in front of the strings. "Depending on how you flip the switches, the sound can move straight, or sort of bend around objects. Observe."

Vexen moved some of the levers up and down, and the water in the glass altered from boiling to stagnant. The strings made strange sounds as the levers moved and Demyx covered his ears.

"I've named it Arpeggio," Vexen said after the water in the glass evaporated with an audible hiss. "For the sole reason that I've found that it works best when mimicking the sounds produced by arpeggios."

"That's amazing, Vexen," Demyx breathed.

"Yes, well, you should really pay more attention to what it is I do, Demyx," Vexen said, chuckling under his breath. "Then you wouldn't be so amazed all the time. This is pretty standard for me."

Demyx picked up the strings and weighed them. Vexen handed him a pair of black and silver gloves.

"What are these?"

Vexen smiled. "These will protect your fingers. Arpeggio is fine to use for short periods of time, but prolonged use can damage the nerves in the fingers. These gloves protect your nerves and deflect the sound waves away from your body."

Demyx took the gloves and put them on. Sharp needles buried themselves in his finger tips and water trickled in his veins.

"What the fuck is this?" Demyx cried.

"Well, if you paid attention to what I said after I explained how the thing works, you would have known this was going to happen."

Demyx yelped and tried to peel the gloves from his hands, but Vexen forced his hands down savagely.

"Are you bloody mad, nine?" Vexen smoothed the material back onto Demyx's hands. "Please, do not handicap yourself in panic. It's quite alright."

Demyx breathed sporadically. "It feels like's it's crawling in my skin!"

"You'll be fine," Vexen said. "It's magnificent isn't it?"

Demyx frowned as the material permanently attached to his skin. It began to itch and burn as his flesh turned black and silver and his fingernails hardened to steel. He flexed his fingers excitedly.

"It's the same technology I used for this." He held up his icy blue gauntlet. "I call it Frozen Pride. Arpeggio is only slightly more primitive in design and simple in construct. But, don't let it get to your head."

Demyx looked up.

"You may begin to feel a strange new confidence rise within you, nine." Vexen guided Demyx back into his lab and stood in front of The Womb. "It'll be a small price to pay for the freedom from the limitations of the flesh."

Demyx bowed his head. "Thank you, superior."

"There is no need to be so formal, Demyx," Vexen replied. He tapped the glass and Dusk moved around. "This is what it means to be super human."

Demyx paused and left the room without a word. Vexen sat back in his chair, pulled out the book he had been reading earlier, and smiled as he read.

"The human mind is the third most powerful force in the universe, the second being gravity, and the first being the sun…"

8:00 AM

Lenox Hill Hospital was located between 23rd and 24th Street in Manhattan. About thirty blocks from Times Square, and about fifteen blocks from the computer store. It wasn't that far a distance, but for Axel, that was far too long a distance to travel. He was sitting in the waiting room for a long time, trying to figure out how he was going to get Roxas out without arising suspicion. He could have simply blown it out, but Xehanort had been clear to leave the innocent alone. Axel frowned.

"Next!"

Axel stood up and leaned over the front desk. The woman behind it looked over red horn-rimmed glasses and arched an eyebrow.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Axel clutched his side. "I have a stitch in my chest." That was partially true; he had been running a lot. "It's been there for weeks." That was a lie.

The woman coughed and immediately scrubbed her hands with sanitizer. "Okay, fill this out and have a seat. I'll get to you shortly, hon."

Axel took the paper and sat back down. He didn't have time to wait for a bed, even though he was lying to get one. He had to get to Roxas before something bad happened. Axel looked around and found a cleaning cart parked outside of a bathroom.

"It must be my lucky day," Axel muttered to himself as he put on a bloodstained lab coat and pushed the cart into an elevator.

He moved through the third floor ward, which was the first floor to house patients. He was peeking into each room, looking for that familiar head of blonde hair. He passed by a nurse, and winked at her, but she paid him no mind. Axel turned on his heels, eager to start a fight.

"Is that any way to treat the new guy?"

The nurse frowned and tucked her clipboard under her arm. "I'm sorry. I was unaware that the janitor was on the same employment level as I am."

"Smart bitch," Axel growled. "Could you at least tell me what room Rox—I mean Ryan Hall is in? I heard there was a spill."

The nurse looked over her clipboard. "He's on the sixth floor, and I didn't hear about any spill."

"Well, I'm sorry," Axel said mockingly. "I was unaware that we were on the same employment level. But, if you would like to clean it, you're more than welcome to. I have much better things to be doing than cleaning hazardous waste."

The nurse flushed and spun around. She cursed under her breath and Axel beamed in satisfaction as he ran up to the sixth floor ward.

The sign said "ICU", and it was quiet despite the pandemonium downstairs. Axel shed the bloodstained lab coat in exchange for clean nurse scrubs. He moved quietly through the halls, looking for signs of Roxas. So far, all the beds had lethargic pathetic excuses for human beings laying in them, and Axel was completely ignorant to their condition.

The last room at the end of the hall was dimly lit. Axel stopped outside. He heard voices, and his heart raced. Was someone trying to hurt Roxas?

"I heard he's going to be okay."

"Braig, you will have plenty to time to talk to him when he is fully rested." The doctor was a woman, and she seemed much more concerned about Roxas's health than the Braig. "And besides, he's prone to amnesia. He might not even remember anything."

Braig growled, and another man spoke. He sounded gruff and angry. And powerful.

"I would like to take him into custody as soon as he is well."

"Senator—"

"This is off the books, Doctor."

The doctor left the room, muttering quietly. Axel hid behind a drawn curtain in another room and peered out only when he was certain he was alone. The only thing that masked his softly echoed footsteps were the whirrs of the machines and the beeps of the heart monitors.

He skirted into Roxas's room and sat at the foot of the bed. He overcome with a sadness he had never felt before. It crushed what little metaphorical heart he had left and squeezed his lungs. It was a minute before Axel realized that he was crying. He wiped his tears away and carefully unhooked Roxas from his heart monitor.

He hoisted Roxas onto his back and made his way to the emergency stairs. He didn't want anyone to see him kidnapping a patient who was wanted by a Senator and he figured it would be faster to go the back way anyway.

But, on the ground floor, just on the outside of the stairwell, sat a tiny church. There were people inside, praying to God to heal their loved ones. Axel had never been a religious man, but the critical condition of his best friend made him turn into the church and hide in the Confession booth.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned," Axel muttered, his hands folded loosely.

He leaned Roxas in the corner of the booth, checked his breathing, and fixed his clothing before turning to the small mesh screen on his other side.

"How long has it been since your last Confession?"

Axel counted on his fingers. "Twenty-five years. I was two and a half years old."

Axel's parents were strict Catholics, and had immigrated to the United States from Italy in search of better living conditions. He had only been eleven at the time, and because of his parents' religion, he had many brothers and sisters. But, his constant experimentation with all things explosive wiped them off the face of the Earth in their early years. He never repented for his actions, and didn't really care how hurt his parents were. But, now was not the time for ghosts from the past.

"Confess your mortal sins."

Axel frowned. "There are too many to remember."

"Start from where you can."

Axel took a deep breath. He really didn't have time to pray, or even care about his past discrepancies. And he was beginning to feel rather stupid. "I killed all my brothers and sisters. I framed a friend for attempted murder, and left him when he needed me the most. I blew up countless buildings, murdered countless men, and helped with the cover up of countless scandals. I've stolen a man's identity and removed every trace of my real self from this planet. I'm a bad man, there's no doubt about that, but I only want Roxas to be okay."

Axel heard sounds of cell phone keys. He pulled out a gun and shot the Father through the small mesh screen. The other patrons of the church screamed, and Axel picked Roxas up and headed back to Oblivion Labs. As he left the hospital, he crossed his heart.

"For the Father, the Son, and The Holy Spirit..."

Roxas cracked an eye open and groaned softly.

* * *

The early morning usually brought with it a pleasant breeze and merry sunshine, but, for Diz, this morning was eerily calm. He had expected to wake up to a nice long report about how Aqua's empire was being deconstructed by his employees, but instead, he received letters of resignation and reports of death. Apparently Aqua had sent out a KOS. His disciples were dropping like flies.

And he was hiding in a suburb in Florida.

Diz stared at his email messages for a long time before he roared so loudly it alarmed the neighbors outside. He was going to have to do something, and do it fast. He couldn't allow Aqua to win. Not after everything he had given up in order to go into hiding the way he did. He sacrificed his freedom to hide from the imminent chaos that would ensue from declaring all out war on a crime lord of Aqua's status.

He flipped his old television set on and stared at that morning's news broadcast. The woman on the screen was smiling and laughing as the meteorologist gave his forecast for the next few days. Cold and windy.

But, the segment that caught his eye was the report about all the Heartless that had been killed. The woman showed no remorse, and rushed through the segment, purposely leaving out details, and making snide comments about the Heartless. And Diz fumed as he realized his gang's former glory was being diminished by public figures.

Diz grew murderous almost instantly, and rushed about his house gathering supplies. He was going to have to go to Miami and kill Aqua. There was no other way he was going to be able to secure his hold over the United States' cyberspace until that bitch was gone. He had remembered Moloch telling him that Miami was the last place where he saw her.

He packed up a camera, a few wires, his personal laptop, and hopped in his car. He was going to kill Aqua if it was the last thing he would ever do. But, first, he had to get guns. Powerful guns, and set up a little stage for him to display Aqua to the world.

It was about time America knew who "Someone" was.

9:30 AM

Isa sat away from the bed, staring out the small window. Miami was busy already. The trees were rustling in a strong breeze. Isa frowned. It was too beautiful for words, and he desperately wanted to crawl back into bed with Aqua. He didn't want to go back to New York.

His phone rang. It was sitting on the bedside table, and it moved across the faux wood as it vibrated. He picked up the phone and glanced at the caller ID. It was Hayner, and he dropped the phone on the floor. He didn't feel like answering it. To answer the phone meant to answer the call of his criminal lifestyle. Something he wasn't so sure he wanted to do anymore.

The phone stopped ringing, and Isa was once again met with the silence of their room, and the faint sound of The Magic City in the background. Isa smiled briefly. He was thinking about letting Aqua sleep all day and forgetting his criminal past entirely, but he just couldn't take that kind of gamble.

"Hey, wake up," Isa said, nudging Aqua with his leg. "Come on, we gotta go now."

Aqua moaned in protest, but pulled herself to her feet and grabbed a towel. She wouldn't be able to change for a little while, but she figured she could at least wash her hair and wake herself up more.

Isa waited for the shower to turn on before he opened the door and made his way down the hall. He pulled a couple of dollar bills from his wallet, and got a poorly brewed cup of coffee and a soda. He leaned against the machine, rubbing his temples. He was trying to figure out how exactly he was going to pull off his perfect plan to get Aqua out of the drug game.

So far, he had nothing, and was content with just going back to New York with her. His plan would have to wait until he could set up everything for the pitfalls that were bound to happen. He rubbed the back of his head, and opened the room door to Aqua, who was already sitting on the bed, fully dressed, hair, dripping wet.

"Ready to go?" Isa asked.

Aqua nodded and stood. She still looked exhausted, and Isa wished he could just let her go back to sleep. He took her hand, but she withdrew it.

"We could stay here if you like," Isa said. "Just you and me. We could stay here, and forget about New York."

"You know that's an impossibility," Aqua muttered. She moved past him.

"Maybe not so impossible?" Isa replied. "I could make a few calls. Then we could live here. Or go to California. Or somewhere far away. What do you say?"

Aqua shook her head. "Let's just get to the airport. I want to go home."

Isa handed her the poorly brewed coffee, and walked behind her. They hailed a taxi, and when the cab pulled up, Aqua stopped Isa.

"You're not coming with me."

Isa took a step back, instantly becoming abrasive. "What the fuck are you talking about? You can't go alone."

"You have overstepped that line," Aqua said simply, without emotion. "We can't work together now. I fucked up. And I will not allow you get in my way."

"You don't have to be like that!" Isa blurted as inconspicuously as he could. "You act like you didn't let Riku do the exact same thing."

"I suppose we could pretend this never happened. But I don't need you anymore." Aqua frowned.

"You can't just leave," Isa said. "Xaldin will come after you. I can't leave you."

"Well, then, allow me to clear things up for you." Aqua looked around the bouncy city. She didn't want to leave Miami, but Miami was not her place. She had to stay in New York. "The Heartless Lover has been taken care of—"

"No…"

Aqua continued without looking at Isa. "You are hereby relieved of your duty, and are expected to return to Philadelphia by this time tomorrow."

"Aqua—"

"I no longer need my Big Brother."

Aqua sat in the cab and closed the door. The cab pulled away, and Isa tried his best to keep up with it, but he could not manage to follow it for more than a few feet. He slowed to a walk as the cab rounded the corner, and screamed his curses to whatever deity would listen to them. People around him muttered in concern, not sure if they should do anything about his displays of aggression.

Isa beat the pavement with his fists, and continued to scream at the top of his lungs. His plan hadn't panned out the way he wanted, and the first person he blamed was Riku. His jealousy rose in his heart again, and he called a taxi. He was going to kill that little shit if it was the only thing he would ever accomplish.

The entire ride to the airport was silent. His mind brewed the most horrifying death imaginable for his rival. He wanted to shoot him so badly, and he had almost killed the driver, but thought better of it.

The airport was a busy place. People were moving around in droves, picking up luggage, purchasing tickets, and exchanging directions. But Isa edged around them. He knew that somewhere in this building, Aqua was getting prepared to leave for New York and never return. He could not let that happen.

As he passed one of the boarding gates, he noticed the televisions mounted on the walls were starting to flicker more often. He ignored it at first, but the strange images were starting to draw his attention more obviously. Some of the people in the airport began pointing at the screens, whispering to each other.

The Heartless insignia: The black and read heart. Isa froze. Was this going to be another attack?

"_Good morning, citizens of America."_

Isa recognized the voice. It was the same one that had warned America of its disrespect to the Heartless, but the sound of his voice now held very different intentions. It sounded murderous and sly.

"_I think it might be time to learn the truth about the world."_

The screen flickered and grew snowy. Sounds of things shuffling around echoed in the otherwise quiet terminal. The people had fallen completely silent. The image flickered again, and Diz was smiling at the screen. He looked hellish, eyes red from drug use, teeth yellowed from age. He was crazy.

"_You have commonly heard on the news that 'Someone' has been behind many criminal rings. Drugs, prostitution, weapons. All because of 'Someone'. Well, I think it's time you know who this 'Someone' is. It's time you have seen their face, familiarized yourself with their appearance."_

Isa growled under his breath. Aqua was in danger, and somewhere in this airport, she was being toyed with. He ran through the halls, pushing people out of the way. An airport worker tried to stop him, but Isa pulled out his gun and shoved it in his mouth.

"You tell me where they are!" Isa screamed.

The man shuddered. Isa turned his head to the side and jabbed his thumb at the small red and black Heartless brand mark. The man cried out, but the cold taste of metal was blocking his voice.

"Where are they?"

The man pointed to a door. As soon as Isa pulled the gun from the man's mouth, he man broke down in hysterical tears. Isa crashed into the door, and barreled down the hallway. Diz's voice came through the PA system, his tone manic. He was obviously trying to expose Aqua to the world, but Isa just could not let that happen. Otherwise, his whole reason for existence would have been a failure.

He came to a private hangar where plane parts and tools were strewn across the floor. Isa stopped in the doorway. He could see Diz across from him, speaking to a camera that was hooked up to his laptop. Aqua was tied to a metal chair behind him. A large screen was separating her from the camera's view. Even from such a far distance, Isa could see she was fighting Diz.

Isa thought for a moment before cocking his gun and stepping out, but a hand grabbed him from behind. In a panic, he fired, and the bullet ricocheted around the hangar, alerting Diz to their presence. Isa roared and spun around, fully intending on shooting the fucker in the face. But, Riku pushed his hand up.

"Riku?"

Riku pulled Isa out into the open, where Diz shot at them. Isa punched Riku in the face.

"You motherfucker!" He cried. "I can't believe you would have the nerve to show your fucking face to me!"

"Quiet!" Diz yelled. He shot at them again, and it caught Isa in the leg. Isa fell to his knees, howling in pain.

"You motherfucker!"

"I said shut the fuck up!"

Isa and Riku looked at Diz. Diz came closer to them, panting heavily. He motioned to Riku.

"Step back, boy."

Riku obeyed and took a step back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aqua trying to untie herself. She was gagged, and didn't make much noise besides an occasional angry groan. Riku looked back at Diz.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want this little cunt to be exposed!" Diz spat. "If the whole world knows who she is, then I can still keep _my_ empire."

Riku mumbled something under his breath. Diz pointed his gun at Riku, then at Isa.

"I'm sick of waiting for everything, Riku." Diz giggled. "You see, I've spent my whole life trying to claim the world. And I almost did it, too! Then the Internet came along and I built myself a nice little army."

Riku frowned. "What do you want?"

"I want the Keyblade!" Diz yelled. "I know you have it!"

Isa struggled for his gun, but the bleeding in his leg made him sluggish. Diz pointed his gun at him again. "Don't you fucking move!"

Isa stopped, breathing shallowly. He couldn't believe this was happening. The one job he was ever given—the protection of Aqua—was beginning to slip from him. He was failing, and if Diz didn't kill him right there, someone else was going to. He looked at Aqua, and a pious moan of longing escaped his lips.

"I'm so sorry," Isa whispered.

Diz's eyes moved from Riku to Isa. He couldn't seem to decide what he was going to do. Was he going to shoot Riku? Kill Isa? He shivered with anticipation, when Aqua fell over in her chair behind him. He turned around, and rushed to her, firing a bullet into the ceiling angrily.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" Diz said as he struggled to lift Aqua upright. "You didn't think you were going to escape, did you?"

Aqua made a muffled sound, but Diz cocked his gun and pressed the nozzle to her forehead. Aqua gasped softly and held her breath. Diz smiled viciously and turned back to the camera, which had been rolling the entire time.

"_Citizens of America, I reveal to you…'Someone'!"_

As Diz moved out of the way, kicked the large screen down, and forced Aqua's face to the camera, three things happened at once.

The first thing to happen was a sudden dimming of the lights. The whole hangar was plunged in darkness, and Diz howled in rage. He moved around, kicking whatever was in his way as he rushed to where the camera was to turn on the night vision. His curses rang through the air, and Isa spat back his retorts.

At the same time, Isa felt this rush of fabric as the lower half of his body went numb, and his hair was snatched from behind. He cried out in agony, moved as best as he could, and felt his hair being cut with a knife. He could recognize the sound. It was the same one as when he had cut that bitch's hair at Master Eraqus's house. He threw himself back, but only managed to hurt his back as needles buried into his flesh.

Riku, who had thrown up every defense he had, backed into a wall, and tried to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His eyes adjusted rather quickly, but he paled inside as numbers began to float in his mind's eye again. He frowned, and silently begged the numbers to go away. He fell to his knees, and rubbed his head, moaning softly.

"Not now, please."

Diz managed to flip his camera into night vision mode just as Xaldin came up behind him and shot him dead. Xaldin frowned as he crushed the camera in his hands and closed the laptop lid. He turned on his heels as Larxene stopped at his side.

"Hmm, it seems things have gotten a little more complicated than we had originally planned," Larxene hummed. "Where's Marluxia when you need him?"

Xaldin shrugged, and the emergency lights flipped on, casting an eerie white light across the hangar floor. The equipment shadows were long, and Xaldin wasted no time collecting Aqua.

"Hey!"

Xaldin turned. Isa was growling in pain, but he kept his tone of voice commanding, hoping that he would sound intimidating enough to buy him some time to think of a plan. He already knew he was outnumbered and out skilled. He looked to Riku, who was muttering under his breath as he scratched numbers into the concrete with a key.

"You are in no position to make demands," Larxene said. She sauntered over, twisting needles in her hands. She seemed overjoyed that Isa was on his knees like a weakling. "We knew you would lead us to him. Seems like you _did_ know."

Riku looked up, but the pain throbbing in his head made it impossible for him to do anything. Xaldin was standing in front of Aqua, who kicked out harshly. He did not strike her, and Riku cursed himself for not going to save her. Isa laughed. He was terrified, and he had no real plan of action. He hadn't told his men to come with him and he was sure that they had already gone back to Philadelphia, but he still laughed.

"I don't see what's so funny, Isa," Xaldin said. He looked at Aqua and frowned. "You have become quite an obstacle. You and Aqua both."

Isa growled at Xaldin, but did not move. He reached around to remove the needles from his back, but like at Master Eraqus's house, he could not reach and was too tired. Larxene laughed wickedly.

"You crack me up, Isa. You and your undying loyalty to a woman who would sell you out to make a power play."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"It's true," Larxene said. "Isn't it, Aqua?"

Aqua didn't say anything, but turned her head.

"We just got confirmation from some of our sources that Aqua was planning to call in some…foreign contacts." Larxene pinched Aqua's cheek and slapped her across the face. "Foreign contacts who would try to uproot us by controlling weapons smuggling. People who would try to cut _us_ off by tightening their own illegal regulations. And we can't have that now, can we?"

Riku looked up. The numbers had stopped abruptly. Like something was blocking whatever signal that had been coming from the Keyblade. He didn't move right away. He still pretended to write down numbers, but they were half assed, and he looked over at Isa.

"But, don't worry, Isa," Larxene said. "You've still got some fight in you, I can see it. I'm sure Xaldin would love to talk to you about that. Seems you have a pretty big mouth."

Isa pushed himself back along the floor. His legs wouldn't move no matter how hard he forced them to. His gun had been taken from him, and he tried to find something that he could use to protect himself. Riku could see the desperation in his eyes, deciding right there that he needed to put his differences with Isa aside and do something.

Xaldin growled under his breath. He wanted to kill Isa for one reason and one reason only. Isa had disrespected him in a bar in Manhattan a few years ago. It wasn't really anything he said that gave Xaldin this need to kill him, but the way he sounded, and the way his arrogance became the center of attention. The way he spoke to the other patrons at the bar, and the way he had spoken to Xaldin about his beliefs.

It was about loyalty. Xaldin, though normally quiet, had voiced his opinion. To him, loyalty was something that had to be given to the one you trusted most over all. To Isa, loyalty was something that could be bought. Isa and Xaldin had some words over it, and it ended with Isa openly insulting Xaldin's loyalty to Xehanort, though, at the time, Isa had no idea how bad he really was.

"You called me a blundering Neanderthal," Xaldin growled. He hoisted Isa off the ground with one hand. "A damn fool for being so loyal to someone who had nothing to show for it. Do you remember that?"

Isa frowned, but after a brief moment, that arrogant smile snuck onto his lips again. "I say lots of mean things to lots of people. I'm so sorry if I hurt your feelings." He reached behind him. Xaldin shook him violently, and Isa pulled a couple of needles out from his back. "It's not my fault if you have a skin that's easily broken. Don't worry. I'm sure you'll get over it."

Xaldin dropped Isa in a crumpled heap and grabbed the first thing he saw from the floor. A long broken pipe. He stood to his full height and swung down with all his strength. Isa managed to build enough energy to roll out of the way, but the pipe still hit his wounded leg. He cried out, and heard the distinct sound of bone breaking.

Riku jumped to his feet and ran to Aqua. Larxene was standing next to her, pushing needles into her arms and pulling them out forcefully. Riku snatched a wrench off a tool table and wielded it clumsily. It was such a short weapon, and he really didn't have a full plan formulated. Larxene danced out of the way and grinned at him.

"My, we sure are feisty, huh?" She wagged a finger at him. "That's no way to treat a lady."

Aqua yelled at him, though she was still gagged, and he stopped his attempt at attacking Larxene. "Help Isa!"

Riku nodded and backed away. But, he already knew that he had engaged Larxene in battle, so he couldn't just turn around and run. She was undoubtedly going to follow him, so he had to think. Isa grunted as Xaldin kicked him in the stomach and threw him farther into the long shadows.

"Fucking Riku!" Isa screamed. "Any fucking day now!"

Riku turned around, but Larxene pulled his legs from underneath him. He yelped as he fell, and he slammed his head on the concrete. He lay there in a daze for a moment as eerie music burst into his head. It sounded disjointed and muffled, like it was moving over a long distance in a short amount of time. White stars danced in his eyes, and he coughed.

"Oh, are you okay," Larxene said, bending over him. "I didn't mean to." Her sarcasm made Riku's head pulse more, and he rolled onto his back and kicked Larxene in the face.

The heel of his boot made contact with the top of her skull, and she fell back into a tool bench. She clutched her forehead as a headache instantly ripped through her brain. Xaldin and Isa continued to struggle back and forth. Isa had found a metal bar and was barely being able to hold Xaldin off. His arms were shaking from the strain, his wounded leg was limp, and his head was beginning to feel light as blood pooled on the floor.

Riku tried his best to stand up, but every time he made it to his feet, his head would pulse and he would sink back to his knees. He couldn't get a hold of himself, and he wanted to do so much. He just didn't have the strength to get to Aqua _and_ help Isa.

He crawled as quickly as he could to where Diz's computer was still set up. Larxene had pounce on him though, and they kicked and bit each other ferociously. Larxene, who was not as dazed as Riku stayed on top of him rather easily, taking advantage at his slow reaction time. Riku grit his teeth as he was repeatedly hit over the head. The numbers began to flow into his mind again, and he forced them away as he raced to Diz's computer on his hands and knees.

"Riku!"

Isa was quickly losing his battle with Xaldin. Xaldin had wrenched the metal bar away from him, and had hoisted him off the floor again. Isa struggled, and had regained the use of his good leg after finally being able to pull the last of the needles out. He still could feel the pins and needles crawling in his skin, but the feeling had returned, and he was kicking his leg as hard as he could to free himself. Xaldin had wrapped both of his hands around Isa's neck, and was squeezing slowly, so Isa could suffer every for every minute until he died.

Riku kicked Larxene one last time before he scrambled over Diz's stuff. He found a gun and loaded it as fast as he could, making sure he kept Larxene at bay. She backed away from him, and decided that she would be better off trying to kill Aqua. Riku stood, after leaning against the table and roared fiercely. Xaldin turned around, still holding Isa off the floor. Isa kicked harder, but Riku could see he was almost gone.

"Oh, you have a choice now, Riku," Larxene huffed. She was bleeding over her eye, and her blond hair was stained with her blood. She was holding a knife to Aqua's throat. "Him, or her."

Riku looked from Aqua to Isa and back again. Aqua eyes pleaded with him, and he knew what he really wanted to do. He really wanted Aqua. He knew that saving her would mean a happy ending to their budding relationship. And he didn't like Isa too much. Riku frowned and closed his eyes. The formula in his mind burned his eyelids, and he turned abruptly to the side and pulled the trigger without thinking.

Isa fell to the floor. He gasped for breath and clutched his throat. Larxene screamed angrily, and ran as fast as she could as Riku shot at her. He had missed, but the hangar was once again plunged in darkness, and Riku heard Xaldin's heavy body fall to the concrete floor with a loud swoosh of leather fabric.

Riku moved his hands along the floor, and found Isa's body. Isa breathed heavily, and hit Riku's hand away as soon as he felt it. Riku frowned, though Isa couldn't see him.

"I just saved you, asshole," Riku growled.

"Fuck you," Isa growled back.

Riku retreated. He knew Isa was in incredible pain. He could hear it in the way Isa spoke and the soft grunts. Riku put his hand in Isa's blood and panicked. There was a heavy knocking sound on the walls, and the sound of high-pitched cursing. Larxene was still in the hangar. Riku prepared himself for whatever attack she had in mind, but it never came.

And it never came for a while.

The only thing that echoed in the hangar after a few more minutes was the loud whimpers of pain from Isa. Riku sighed heavily, and stumbled through the darkness to a light switch. As soon as light flooded the hangar again, Riku rushed to Aqua and untied her. She ripped the gag from her mouth and turned away from Riku. She looked saddened, like she didn't want to live anymore.

"We need to get Isa to the hospital," Riku said after a long bout of silence. "He's really hurt."

"I told him I didn't need him anymore."

Riku frowned. This wasn't the Aqua he had left in New York. This Aqua was different, hurt. Riku took her hand, but she pulled it away.

"I just need you to leave."

Riku looked at Isa, then back at Aqua. "What happened to you? You're not the same."

Isa pulled himself to a sitting position and screamed as his broken leg shifted violently. "She went to her former Captain! She went to that motherfucker and let him hurt her again."

Aqua looked down. "I did what I had to. The Heartless are no longer a gang. They have been killed off, and any of the few stragglers that dare show their face will get killed on the spot. I had them slaughtered."

Riku stopped Aqua from moving. "You can't just leave him here."

Aqua spun around. "He overstepped that line! Just like I did. Now he has to be punished. That's what happens when you makes moves like that. If he dies while on exile, that is of no concern to me."

Riku let Aqua's hand go. She couldn't be serious, letting her second die like that. And Riku frowned as he looked at Isa. He didn't like him too much. They had some sort of unspoken war going on between them, but Riku didn't hate him enough to let him die by himself. There was no doubt that he was loyal to Aqua, but he sensed that there was something wrong with her. Whether it was physical or psychological, he couldn't tell, but he had to do something.

Aqua walked away. Riku went to Isa's side and helped him to his feet. He had to half carry him because Isa could only hobble on one foot, and even then, it was just barely.

"What happened to her?" Riku asked.

Isa stayed quiet for a long time. He seemed reluctant to tell his rival what was wrong with the object of his affections, for they were both after the same thing. And he wasn't even entirely sure what was truly wrong in the first place.

"We went to her former Captain's house," Isa muttered. "The same people who showed up here were there as well. I wanted to help her, but I think she was raped during whatever talk they had. I don't know, I didn't see. But, now she's got a thorn in her foot about whatever he said to her. She just needs to cool off."

"What's this about exile?"

Isa sighed. "I've been released from Aqua's employment until further notice. And just by you helping me, you're putting yourself in danger. I don't need your help."

Isa tried to push himself away, but Riku held fast to him. He already knew that Isa wasn't going anywhere.

"Why did she fire you?" Riku asked after a while. They had managed to get out of the airport and almost a taxi, but someone had seen them. Panic had spread rather quickly while Diz was trying to show Aqua for who she truly was. People were lying around the terminal, injured from some kind of stampede. There was a lot of crying, and small puddles of blood dotted the white tiled floor.

Isa was taken by an ambulance after someone had pointed them out. He had lied about his injuries—claiming to have been a victim of the mad rush—and was given immediate medical attention. Riku stayed at the airport, and turned back to find Aqua. There was no way she was just going to abandon her employees without some kind of explanation.

Aqua was standing on the steps of a small jet when Riku had finally found her again. She was crying silently while she held a phone up to her ear. Riku approached her, but two men stopped him. They were tall, and they wore double-breasted suits. The way they stood almost made them seem like they were royalty.

"Aqua!" Riku cried.

Aqua turned around and closed the phone. "What do you want?" Her eyes were puffy and red. She had been crying for a while. Did it start when she left them?

"What are you doing?" Riku asked urgently. "Why are you abandoning us?"

Aqua hung her head. "I can no longer be distracted. Isa was just getting in the way. You are not right for this, Riku."

Riku pushed the guards away. "What are you talking about?"

"Remember when we first talked?" Aqua said. "When I first came to you with a job? Do you remember what I said?"

Riku frowned. "No. Something about being on time?"

"I told you that I was a bitch when it came to business." Aqua trembled slightly. "This is business. And Isa was getting in the way. And if you don't want to join him in Philadelphia, I suggest you go back to whatever it was you did before I hired you, and never speak to me again."

Riku struggled against the guards as Aqua climbed the steps to the jet. He was calling her name, but she refused to answer.

"Please reconsider!" Riku begged. "Aqua!"

Aqua shook her head. "Maybe, a long time from now, I'll change my mind. But, from now on, you will address me as Master Aqua, and you will not try to contact me again. Do you understand me, runner?"

Riku stopped at being called by his title. Runner. It sounded so distant. Like she was trying to cut away from him before something happened. Riku let her board the plane without another word. The plane rolled out onto the tarmac and took off a few minutes later. Riku stayed in the hangar for a long time until his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Riku, you must get to Sora," Mick said. "He will need your help, I'm sure. I think I may have severely underestimated the power of the Organization. You need to get to Delaware. I'll alert Sora."

"Mick!" Riku yelled. "What's going on?"

"I don't have time to talk. I'll call you later, okay?"

Riku answered to a dial tone. He gathered himself together mentally before he boarded the same plane that had taken him to Miami, in anticipation of whatever was supposed to be happening in Delaware. Whatever awaited him, it gave him a peculiar sense of fear. Inhuman, and equivalent to nothing he's ever felt before. He had a strange feeling that this fear was not his, but belonged to Sora. He wasn't sure. He thought that his insane need to run was not a part of his body. It felt like it was stemming from the Keyblade.

Sora was in trouble, he could tell.

10:30 AM

She was moaning his name. Curling her fingers in his hair as he completely overcame her. He nibbled her flesh, whispered dirty commands in her ears, and bent her to his will like he was the master of the universe.

And she obeyed, tucking her beautiful red hair behind her ear, and smiling at him with perfect green eyes. She smelled just like flowers, and hugged him tightly as he took her over that edge of ecstasy into something else entirely.

"Zeke…"

Zexion cracked an eye as his phone sprang to life. His whole body was covered in sweat, and he groaned audibly as he sat up and answered it in the most venomous he could muster.

"What?"

It was still early in Hawaii, much earlier than on the East Coast, and Zexion was angry with himself for dreaming about Kairi again. Every time he closed his eyes he thought of her. All the things he would do to her if he could coax her into bed with him, and he was annoyed at having to suffer the same gut-wrenching pain in his chest as he woke up covered in sweat and beside himself with anguish.

"Dr. Fender! Dr. Fender!"

Zexion frowned. The locals had called him. And they sounded panicked. He had given them his cell phone number just in case something happened, but he was never really expecting them to use it. Which meant only one thing.

"Please hurry!"

Zexion hurried out of the hotel, practically tripping over himself as he hailed a taxi and headed to the airport. The taxi driver was the same one he had paid to chauffer Xion around. He sped to the private airstrip where a helicopter was waiting. Zexion rushed to the helicopter.

His heart was beating in his chest. The Dusks were ready, and they were going to be introduced to the world at any moment. He had to be there to take notes, and he couldn't help but feel this proud feeling well in his chest. It overcame the fantasies of Kairi for a brief moment before another thought came to him.

Ha had to call Xehanort.

"Why, good morning, Zexion," Xehanort said rather calmly.

"Sir, the Dusks," Zexion blurted. "They're coming! I just got the call."

"Well, the timing could not be better," Xehanort hummed. "I expect you back in New York as soon as they are delivered. I have a few matters to attend to myself, but I shall be there in a few days time."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Zexion?"

"Yes?"

"Be sure to take notes. They will be important later."

"Yes, sir."

Zexion hung up the phone as the helicopter landed right in the village square. He hopped out, and yelled at the locals to gather supplies for him. They ran off to get towels, blankets, and water. Zexion ran to where the women were kept. To his surprise, he found all three of his surviving test subjects there. They were sweating and moaning in pain. Their stomachs were stretched out, and they looked as though they would fall apart at any moment.

"What happened?" Zexion asked. He listened to each of their hearts, and could hear the distinct sound of a second complete being.

"It hurts, Dr. Fender."

Zexion frowned as he sat by their sides. They were breathing hard, and pushed as their bodies commanded them to, but nothing was happening. Their stomachs would contract, and Zexion propped their legs up on makeshift stirrups, but still nothing happened.

"Has the water broken?" Zexion asked. There was this demented leap of joy when the locals told him what happened.

"Dr. Fender!" cried one of the women. She arched back, and her stomach shifted dramatically.

Zexion breathed shallowly as she screamed in agony. All her strength left her at that moment and she just howled. It was hollow sounding, like the child within her body had stolen everything that made her unique. Her voice became a shrill whistle, and was soon accompanied by a series of stiff clicks. The skin around her womb began to stretch more, and after a final wail, a tiny clawed hand made its way through the woman's skin.

Zexion watched as the skin broke, and a thick stream of blood soaked the woman's shirt and dripped onto the dirt floor. All fell silent as the woman screamed until she died of exhaustion. The other women passed on as well as their flesh, too, was ripped, giving way to small gray appendages. The room filled with clicks that were stiff and muffled, and Zexion rushed to the small pile of blankets the local had brought him.

He waited for the clawed hands to make more of an opening before he put on a pair of gloves and dunked a towel in a basin of water. He wrung the towel and held it at the ready. After a few minutes, Zexion reached into the torn womb and extracted a wriggling mass of gray flesh.

It was a Dusk.

The Dusk was small, its skin folded over multiple times, and it stayed in its fetal position. Upon feeling the warmth of Zexion's hands, it sprang to life, wriggling madly like a fish on a boat deck. Zexion held onto the Dusk as it thrashed about, and he submerged it in the basin of water. At first, the Dusk lay still. The water seemed to have soothed it into thinking it was back in the womb. But after all the blood had been cleaned from its skin, and the amniotic fluid had dissolved, the Dusk heaved all the fluid left in its lungs and cried.

Its cry was haunting. A collage of decrepit human cries and broken sour notes. And when the other two Dusks had been cleaned off and wrapped in towels, their cries created a symphony of eerie science fiction. Zexion wrote his notes hurriedly, and tended to the Dusks, rubbing them roughly to warm their chilled skin.

Zexion flipped his phone open and called Vexen. He put the phone on speaker and spoke excitedly. It was the first time in a long time that he had genuinely been excited the way he was. "They're here!"

Vexen laughed. "This is fantastic, Zexion! How did it go?"

"They cut through the flesh of the mother." He held the phone to the Dusks, and their cries jumped across the country in an instant. "Don't they sound magnificent? They're beautiful."

Vexen cheered over the phone, and Zexion hung up after a quick congratulations.

The Dusks' bodies were overlapping each other, even though they had unwound. It seemed that their skin was many times too big for them, and their faces were expressionless. They had no eyes to speak of, just two slightly raised nubs that had developed into some kind of sensory organ. Their mouths had no lips, and their teeth had become metallic in nature. They were alien.

Zexion hovered over them, speaking softly and listening to their hearts. They beat sporadically, and a gurgling from their intestines made Zexion step back quickly. The Dusks cried and struggled in their towels.

"What is it?" Zexion asked. He already knew they would not speak to him, but he felt that if he asked the question, the answer would present itself.

The Dusks struggled more, and they opened their mouths and moved from side to side. They were looking for food. Zexion realized this, and he picked up one of the Dusks and took it to its mother. Naturally, a baby would want to breastfeed after a few minutes, but all the mothers were dead, and their bodies were not going to produce milk. Zexion placed the Dusk near its mother, and it slipped out of his hands and back into the opening in the mother's stomach.

It wallowed in the pooled blood, and sloppily chewed at the flesh around the torn womb. It made sick wet noises as it ripped raw flesh and ate it greedily. Zexion quickly deposited the other Dusks into their mother's corpses and they proceeded to eat the flesh around them. Zexion jotted their behavior down, and realized that they were quite calm and benevolent. They didn't exhibit violent behavior like he had expected.

One of the locals came into the little hut as the Dusks had finished eating. Their bodies had filled out and they were already trying to crawl around in their mother's corpses. The man gasped and pointed at the Dusks.

"What are those things?" he cried. "What have you done to the children?"

Zexion opened his mouth to speak, but one of the Dusks had flopped off its mother's body and onto the dirt floor. It shuffled around before it crawled after the man and bit his ankles.

The man screamed and fell out of the hut. The other locals panicked at the sight of the gray creature, and tried to kill it, but the Dusk moved around them like it had no bones. They way it shuffled through their legs was eerie and fluid. An alien species among humans, and it bit them in retaliation. Zexion rushed out of the hut, and the other Dusks followed suit, attacking the locals savagely.

They had grown considerably in size after gorging themselves on human flesh. They were at least four times bigger than they had been when they first breached the confines of their human cages. And they attacked the locals strategically, biting their ankles, then pouncing on them and crushing their throats.

Zexion stood to his full height, puffed out his chest and called to the Dusks in the most commanding voice he could. "Dusks!"

The Dusks slowed down in their assault, turning their heads to Zexion and hissing. One of the Dusks—undoubtedly the leader of their small pack—slithered to Zexion and leapt up at him. Zexion fell back, and the Dusk breathed in his face. The Dusk's breath smelled like fresh air tainted by raw meat. Zexion breathed back, trying to keep that commanding tone.

"You will stop." Zexion spoke to the Dusk as if it could understand him. He wasn't quite sure the scope of the Dusk's intelligence, but he wasn't about to underestimate it.

The Dusk hovered over him for a long time before it retreated and curled on his stomach. It clicked angrily and the other Dusks obeyed, pulling away from the locals and gathering around Zexion.

The locals didn't say anything. Zexion grabbed his belongings and hurried off, flipping his phone open and calling Xehanort.

"They're here," Zexion said. "And they can move at incredible speeds. They can understand human speech and they listened to exactly what I told them. I'm on my way back, but send something to kill the locals. They can not tell anyone what happened here. We're not ready."

"I'm sure Xaldin would not mind doing that for you," Xehanort answered. "I'll call him shortly. I am in the middle of something right now. Call me when you get to New York."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Zexion, do not be afraid to test the Dusks on your way back. I want a full report on my desk as soon as you arrive." Xehanort grunted in pain. "I'll alert Vexen so he may design some kind of housing for them."

Zexion muttered a goodbye and closed his phone. He loaded the Dusks onto the helicopter and turned to the pilot. "If you do not fly this thing to the nearest airport, I will have you eaten alive and fly the God damn thing myself, understand?"

The pilot screamed in fear and flew Zexion to the airport after seeing the Dusks flopping around on the floor of the aircraft. Zexion managed to calm the Dusks into a sleep like placidity. Making it back to New York was going to be least of Zexion's problems.

* * *

Seaside Heights had become a sort of battleground in the short period between Vanitas's transformation and the time the sun had fully risen. The ocean was a mottled gray, a foreshadowing to a disaster that wasn't quite present, but was very much on the way. Xion had accompanied Xehanort to the shore city in order to witness the beginning tests of Xehanort's new weapons.

The Ethereal Blades.

They had spent much of the morning on the beach, watching the ocean suck at the shore's edge, but as more people began to settle into their routine, Xehanort stood and stretched. He seemed much more somber. Upon trying to call Xaldin, he found his bodyguard unable to answer, which meant only one thing. And this saddened him.

"Now, we must practice, Xion," Xehanort said slowly. "The time is almost here."

Xion smiled softly. "Okay, sir. But, what is it exactly we are doing here?"

"Xion, you are not privy to the ordeals of the Organization," Xehanort replied. "Surely, I have said this to you before. You may, however, watch. I will be demonstrating a most unique weapon designed by a very good friend of mine who has passed on."

"I'm sorry," Xion said.

"There is no need to apologize, sweetheart. Simply observe. I would appreciate it if you took notes." Xehanort pulled out the two plastic tubes he had stolen from his deceased colleague. "They will be important for later reference."

Xion nodded and took the small memo pad Xehanort gave her. She uncapped a pen and watched intently, wishing to impress Xehanort so she could eventually have time with Roxas. Alone time with Roxas.

Xehanort took a step forward and pointed the Ethereal Blades at a nearby couple. He pushed the buttons on the sides and swung them expertly. They made tiny whistling noises and glowed red, alerting the beach goers to his existence. Nobody moved for a long time as they were unsure how to react. They had seen plenty of people pretend to be _Star Wars_ Jedis before; this wasn't a concern.

But, when Xehanort approached the couple and sliced them in half without any resistance, the people on the beach panicked and fled as quickly as their legs would carry them through the sand. Xion frowned and screamed as two men grabbed her from behind and dragged her away.

"Dr. Xehanort!" she screamed.

Xehanort turned around, and growled under his breath as Mick and Everett dragged Xion through the sand. Her robes were getting dirty as she kicked in protest. Xehanort followed, turning the Ethereal Blades off and tucking them into his belt. He climbed a small sand dune, and when he reached the top he stopped as the barrel of a pistol found a new home by his temple.

"Don't you fucking move."

Xehanort snorted softly as Braig clicked his teeth mockingly.

"Oh, it seems we've come to a little bit of a crossroad," Xehanort said sadly. "We'll be out of your hair shortly, I'm sure."

"You're not going anywhere," Braig growled. "I'm Detective Judas Braig, and you are under-fucking-arrest. Put your hands on your head and don't move. You have the right to remain silent—"

"Don't speak so soon," Xehanort warned. "You'll pay for it dearly."

"Christopher Xehanort?"

Xehanort turned to Mick and smiled widely. "Senator Mouse. How nice to see you. I was under the impression that you were negotiating collective bargaining right now. Looks like my tax dollars aren't being used properly. Tut tut.

"Shut the fuck up." Mick punched Xehanort in the face, but caught him before he fell. "I've been looking for you."

Xehanort wiped a small trickle of blood from his mouth and grinned. "You must be mistaking me for somebody else. I have no idea what you're talking about. Now, I will be going as soon as you release my associate."

Mick shook his head. "You've been busy. Creating a virus, I hear."

"You've been misinformed, I'm afraid."

Braig pushed the barrel of the gun harder into Xehanort's temple. "Your little rock star told us everything."

Xehanort smiled, and it turned into a giggle that escalated into a gale of laughter that raised the hair on the back of Braig's neck. "Detective, you are a brave man. You make accusations that are far beyond your intelligence. You have no idea what you're talking about. Please, I do not want to use excessive force, but you are wearing my patience thin."

Braig laughed too, only he sounded a little unsure of himself. "Is he serious?"

Mick held up a hand and punched Xehanort in the face again. "We don't want trouble either. We just want you to come downtown with us. It's not going to be a problem unless you make it one."

Xehanort wiped his mouth again. "Your negotiation skills are formidable, Senator. But, you are underestimating my ability to redefine the terms of a contract."

"The fuck?"

Xehanort smiled once more, regaining that bouncy joy he had lost at the death of his employee and trusted friend. He reached for the Ethereal Blades, turned them on, and spun in place, slashing Braig across the stomach. Braig didn't feel pain right away, but he felt blood soak his shirt, and he fell to his knees.

Xehanort watched indifferently as he breathed harder, and began to sweat. His gun lay forgotten in the sand and Xehanort kicked it away as he reached for it. His tone swirled into a vortex of anger. One that Xaldin would have cowered before had he been there to hear it.

"You have no concept of what it is I can do." Xehanort turned to Mick. "Release the girl, or your other lackey will suffer the same fate."

Mick tensed.

"You wouldn't dare shoot me, Senator," Xehanort said. "I'm a big catch. Someone you wouldn't accomplish a thing without me. If you kill me, you have nothing. And, quite frankly, you don't have time. Detective Braig will die in a matter of minutes if you don't do anything about his injuries. This I promise you."

Mick made a small gesture, and Everett let Xion go without an argument. Xion rushed to Xehanort's side and hid behind him as he bent to Braig's level.

"You might want to request chemotherapy," he whispered. "You'll need it in the long run, I assure you."

Mick, as wealthy and influential as he was, could not do a thing as Xehanort departed. He watched, dying inside as he helped Braig up. Braig grunted in pain, but put up a tough exterior, even going as far to act pissed off.

"Why are you still here?" Braig groaned. "You should go after him."

Mick frowned. "No. We need you to help us." He hoisted Braig onto his back as best as he could, carrying him to his car. "We need to get you to the hospital as soon as possible. You're hurt, and I will not have any of my employees die on my watch. I'm not going to let him win."

Braig protested the whole way, but as soon as he was rushed into an operating room, he was no longer resistant. It was at this exact moment that Mick decided to resign from his Senate seat. He had to stop Xehanort by any means necessary.

It was personal now.

* * *

**So there you go. A nice long chapter for your reading pleasure until DeadShut sends me the next one. Hope you liked it very much. I'm going to do real work now. Bye.**

**Has a nice day. :)  
**


	24. Amnesiac

_**"I'm SO FLATTERED!"**_

** -Axel **

_**"You shouldn't have done that."**_

**-"Jadusable" series**

**DeadShut has finished the lovely twenty-fourth chapter of our epic tale, and he hopes you like it. Haji wishes you all a Happy Saint Patrick's day, though she doesn't know what the holiday is about and is too busy to look it up. She turns eighteen tomorrow and will be taking a little vacation, so the next chapter might be late. Hopefully within a week after Monday.**

**Enjoy, motherfuckers!  
**

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* * *

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_Fourteen years previously…_

Martin Shane, the quarterback for the high school Coffee County High School football team (then known as the Grounds), walked into the back part of the locker rooms after the game; people outside were still cheering, except not for he and his players. They had lost, lost big-time. It was almost depressing…in fact, it _was_ sort of depressing. 17-0, visitors' favor, and the only time they had even been able to act out an entire play, it was ruined by the halfback letting the ball slip through his hands. Everyone was pretty pissed at him, and he looked devastated at letting them all down.

In fact, here was the halfback right now. Shane saw, with surprise, that his friend was crouching against the lockers, sobbing into folded arms.

"J-Judas?" Shane stuttered.

The dark-haired halfback looked up, looking insane. His eyes were red and puffy, his face damp from tears, his hair a mess from his helmet.

"Oh," whispered Judas Braig. He sniffed. "Hi, Marty."

"You okay, man?"

"No. I'm not. I fucked up big-time, man." He punched the locker behind him in anger. Marty flinched. "I'm such an idiot. Such an _idiot_! How could I let this happen?"  
"Hey, c'mon, it's just a game, dude," Marty tried to comfort, a bit half-heartedly.

"It's not just a game," hissed Braig. "Today wasn't. Today's game was important. We would've been put into the upper leagues. I ruined it…ruined it…"

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"No," Braig said menacingly. Marty felt a bit frightened by his friend's gaze; he had never seen Judas like this before. "Not me. I'm not _supposed_ to. I'm the best of the best around. Everyone expects me to be, even my father. How am I supposed to face him?"

Martin knew about Jude's father. The guy was a total hard-ass, and got real disappointed real easy.

_It must be driving him insane, trying to please everyone_, thought Marty.

Braig buried his face in his arms again and wept. Martin, not sure what else to do, put a half-hearted arm around his friend's shoulder.

_Shift…_

_The best of the best_

_The best _

_Of_

_The_

_Best _

_Around_

_Thoughts of my initiation into the NYPD…groovy times, man…groo-vay times…_

…_Senator…you make me blush…_

…_you don't know what it's like (kill you all kill you all kill you all)! You have no idea…_

_Best _

_Of_

_The_

_Best…_

Braig awoke in the hospital with a yelp. He was tucked neatly in his bed, which was surrounded by Mick and Everett. They both looked concerned.

"What happened?" he asked. "Where am I?"

"Seaside Hospital," explained Everett. "You got hit with Xehanort's weapon. It was a bad burn on your stomach, but the doctors patched you up. You should be ready to go soon. They all say you just need rest."

Braig looked at Mick. "Xehanort…"

"Gone."

"Fuck."

Mick looked at the detective, who looked incredibly troubled. Disturbed, almost. Some new, never-before-seen dark light had filled the man's eyes, and it made Mick speak up.

"We'll get him, though," he tried to reassure his friend. "It'll be okay."

Braig looked at him harshly. "Shut up, Mick. You don't know that for sure. If I could have just brought myself to do it…to get him down…we would've gotten him. I fucked it up. Nothing's been going right for me since you and your fucking A-Team got me involved with this shit."

Everett spoke up, "Whoa, man, take 'er easy, okay? It was an honest mistake…"

"_I'm not supposed to make mistakes_!" barked Braig, causing the two to jump. "I'm the best around! You said it yourself, Senator."

Mick snapped back, "This isn't a movie in which you star, Judas! Everyone makes mistakes. _Everyone_. You are no exception."

"Out," commanded Braig darkly. "Both of you."

Mick and Everett looked at each other, and Mick sighed. They both left the room one after the other, not looking back at their injured friend.

Braig sat there, burned stomach and all, absolutely fuming. No, nothing had gone right since Mick approached him…everything was going screwy. First Demyx, now this horrible, horrible mishap. Was he _not_ supposed to be the hero? Was he _not_ supposed to be, literally, the best?

_What is there to live for if to not be great?_ He pondered. Followed by: _It's my fault Xehanort got away…my fault. I made a mistake, and that cannot happen. _He was incredibly angry now, his fists clenched painfully. _It MUST not happen! It WOULDN'T have happened if it wasn't for all of this…this bullshit! Stupid Xehanort, fucking Organization, and that cock-licker Senator…they all started it. All of them. It's Taboo, or karma, or something. _

"Whoa, calm down there, buddy. You'll give yourself a friggin' hemorrhage."

Braig turned and saw, to his amazement, that a man was sitting on the windowsill to the left of his bed. The man was clothed in black dress clothes with dark eyes and a bizarre little beard. If Braig had been a religious man, he would instantly assume this person was possessed by the Devil himself.

"Wha…what the…" Braig stammered. "How'd you?"

The man smiled. "Sorry. I should be more polite. I've kinda been watching you, what you've been doing, and how you've been doing it. You're a strong guy, if I do say so myself. But I guess that white-haired-guy was a bit stronger, huh?"

"Get the fuck out."

"Now, now," the man wagged a finger. "I just want to help you. In return, I of course want _you_ to help _me_."

"Help me how?"

"I can round up those guys," said the man. "I truly can. The Senator, the cop, the girl, the man…all of them. I can round them up, and bring them all to you so you can redeem yourself in front of all of them."

"How…how could you possibly do that?"

"I was hoping you'd ask."

The man hopped off the windowsill and into the hospital room. He walked to the foot of Brig's bed, and began to twitch a little bit…as if he were straining for something. Then, Braig watched as some shadowy material emerged from the man's clothing and enveloped him. Soon, before Braig, stood a human-shaped creature except covered in the darkness, its face a monstrosity full of razor-sharp teeth and wide eyes.

"Like it?" asked the man; his voice was accompanied by another, more sinister one. "It's an AI. Artificial Intelligence. Made by my grandfather in order to create the perfect soldier. It's like a gift…a gift I cannot take off fully, but can hide from others enough to surprise them. With this as my tool, there truly is no end to what I can do for you. I can bring you your friends _and_ enemies…if you do a favor for _me_."

"And what might that be?" asked Braig, still surprised at the monstrosity before him.

"You're a detective, right? I want you in charge of finding the culprit of a mass crime-spree: me. As you are in this position, I want you to keep the cops off my tail."

"A crime spree? Are you fucking kidding me? You're just an average, everyday criminal?"

"Not for money!" reassured the man-monster. "I've had a very hard life, my good man. A life in which I was forced to work everyday of my life. Now it's _my_ turn to have some fun. And what better fun can there be than ruining everything for everyone else in the Big Apple? Nothing, I tell ya'."

"You want me to lead the chase against YOUR crime-spree, and _not_ let anybody catch you? That's like a conspiracy."

The monster flashed a hellish grin. "Do you want to prove your worth to those who think it's lacking, or not? Even if you did not physically capture them, you'd have sent the guy who _will_, which is just the same."

Braig studied this man for a moment, then said, "This isn't right. Not at all. I'm not the bad guy. I may not be the nicest guy in the world, either, but I'm no bad guy."

"I know. So why not be in the middle, with me? If you're thinking comic book-style, don't be a villain and don't be a hero, but be the _anti-hero_."

Braig contemplated this for a long time, perhaps a minute, while the stranger watched him.

Then, the man spoke, "Hang on, I brought you something." He jumped out the window again with the agility and endurance of an everyday insect before hopping right back in. In the man's black, clawed hand was a handgun. "It's your 9 millimeter. You dropped it back on the beach. I'm giving this to you because I trust you." He handed Braig the gun, handle-first. "Do we, or do we not, have a deal?"

How long did Braig think? A minute? A second? Later, he was not quite sure. All he remembered was that he eventually placed his hand on the grip of the pistol, and succumbed to his destiny.

_ "_We have a deal," said he, and the monster-man grinned.

"I didn't catch your name earlier."

"Braig. Judas Braig."

"Cool beans. I'm Void."

"Nice to meetcha, Void. So now what?"

The door to the room slowly opened.

"Now," said Void. "I'm gonna get you the Christly fuck out of here."

"Sounds lovely."

The nurse walked in and said, "Mister, please, this man needs rest. No visito-"

Void turned, revealing his monstrous face, and gave a signature shriek of absolute ferocity. The nurse screamed as the creature leapt towards her. Braig watched on in solemnity as his new partner tore the struggling woman apart.

Soon she was just a bloody mess on the ground.

"Jesus," remarked Braig. "You had to kill her so gruesomely?"

"S'all apart of the fun, man," said Void, licking the blood off of his teeth and savoring the flavor. "S'all apart of the fun."

"Now what the fuck do we do?"

"We leave. Do you mind being carried?"

"Not right now, no. Just hoping you don't get turned on by that sort of thing."

Void laughed wickedly. "No, no." Braig was hoisted up from his bed, and soon they were both flying out the window at an amazing speed. Then they were outside, on the ground, and Void was putting him down.

"Holy hell, that was cool," said Braig.

"Mhmm. Hang on."

They were on the edge of a road, next to a stoplight. In one small black car sat a lone man, his mouth open into a gape, staring at Void as the monstrosity approached him. A second later, the very same man was on the pavement, dead and stripped of his clothing. As Braig swiftly changed into the dead man's outfit, Void rolled down his shadowy-suit.

_Science is fucking amazing_, Braig marveled as he watched this occur.

"C'mon," said Void, hopping into the driver's seat of the car. "We've got a ways to go. And so much to _do_, too!"

Braig smiled, nodded, and hopped into the car with him.

The time on the clock read _1:13 PM._

_1:35 PM_

The homeless men in the alleyway next to Central Park were all wolf-whistling and calling out sexual slurs as the woman in a tight gray suit walked through their turf. She looked like a secretary, with her briefcase in-hand, her hair tied into a tight bun, and her horn-rimmed glasses covering the light of her eyes. She walked with an air of undeserved triumph, and although the men were somewhat intimidated, they still called out to her out of hopes of getting laid. She wasn't really that good-looking…actually, she wasn't even remotely pretty. But, for the homeless, pussy was pussy.

One homeless man lay next to a garbage can that happened to have its contents lit on fire, for warmth. He was not crying, but he looked just about as miserable as any crying man would.

"Mr. McLean?" the woman asked.

Pete looked up, the shine of the metallic plates the Heartless used to keep him alive now revealing itself.

"Ugh," she commented. "Aren't _you_ an ugly shitter."

"Who the fuck are you?" barked Pete. "Leave me be. I ain't feeling my best."

"Why's that?"

"I'd tell you, but you'd probably tell the cops and have me shot."

"Oh?" she smiled. It was far from a warm smile. "Why's that? Because you're a member of the _Heartless_? Didn't you hear? Diz died earlier today."

"I know. We _all_ know. I'm fucked."

"Not quite," she said. "I happen to be a relative of Diz's. My name is Amy. Amy Maleficent."

"Fucking great to meet you. Piss off."

"Now, now," she said. "No need to be so rude, dearie. I'm trying to _help_ you. I want to rebuild my uncle's shitty little gang into something bigger. Better. And I want _you_ to be my number two. Like you were _his_ number two."

Pete looked at her. "Rebuild? How?"

"It's easy. I'll tell you when I have your trust, Petey. We need to make an agreement, though, first. If you want to be my number two, you have to do anything and everything I say, no matter what. If I want you to stand in the line of fire, you'll do that. If I want you to kill a child, you'll do that." She smiled and her long-fingered hand stole to his crotch. He inhaled through his teeth. "If I want you to be my sexual slave, you'll do. Just. That." He cried aloud as she masturbated him. Not out of pleasure, but out of fear; he was not attracted to this woman. She was raping him. Karma at its finest. Even when the Heartless had covered his burns up with metal and computer programming he hadn't felt so shaken.

"You're thick," she whispered. "Very thick. You'll do just fine."

"F-fuck you," wept Pete. "Fuck you."

"Exactly," she grinned. "Exactly. I hold the key to your entire life's return, Pete. Your street status. Your power. Your face. All in my hands."

"I…I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"No," she said, standing up and unzipping her pants. "You don't."

"What're you doing?" he asked fearfully.

"Initiation time," she breathed. "You're gonna go down on me. Right here."

"No," he whispered. He said it again as she took her pants off, again as she took her panties off. He tried to back away, but she grabbed a fistful of his hair and brought him to what she always liked to refer to as her Forbidden Zone.

"Lick," she commanded, and after much struggling he did so.

And thus began the series of further humiliations that was Pete McLean's new life.

_6:45 PM_

Although initially going back to the Labs, Axel remembered with a jolt that Marluxia was still there, and that sick fuck's self-control wasn't something Axel was about to put all his faith in. Instead, he found a small little motel made by shady people _for_ shady people. He decided this place, if any, would be safest for his friend.

He got a room, which looked like it was infested with nine types of otherworldly dust, and put Roxas down upon the coffee-stained cot that this pathetic excuse for a hotel dared to call a bed. Roxas moaned and groaned there.

"Water," Axel told himself and poured his friend a glass of it. He propped Roxas up on a couple of pillows and allowed his friend to drink.

"Thanks," croaked the Chaos Theorist. "I owe you one."

"No problem, man," laughed Axel, clapping his buddy on the back. "You gave me a hell of a fright."

Roxas's drowsy eyes made contact with Axel's sharp green ones, and widened.

"Who…who the…" he jabbered. "Wha…where am I?"

"A shitty little hotel," said Axel. "Jesus, Roxas, relax…"

"Roxas? The fuck are you talking about? Who the fuck are you?" Roxas was now getting defensive, almost angry. Axel stood up, almost in fear.

"Christ, man! It's me! Axel!"

"I don't know any Axel," growled Ryan Hall, standing up and glowering at his former friend. "Who the fuck are you? Why am I here?"

_Oh my God_, Axel thought in a panic. _He's really fucking out of it. Holy shit, I don't believe this. He doesn't even recognize me…_

"You don't remember anything?" Axel asked, awestruck. "_Nothing_?"

Ryan bared his teeth and said, "I dunno, fucker. Enlighten me."

"Okay…okay…how about the Labs? Oblivion Labs?" No response. "Our boss? The Head Honcho? Xigbar? Zexion? Holy shit, do you remember _Lily_ for Chrissake?"

"Lily?" repeated Roxas, shocked. "You know my girlfriend?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Axel.

"How?"

"I can't fucking believe this…

"Okay, man, you've gotta listen carefully, okay? You were initiated into basically a group of mad scientists trying to, literally, take over the world. At first you kinda just got into what we were all about, and our second-in-command gave you a couple of weapons called Keyblades because our _real_ boss trusted you a lot or something. Got it memorized? So then some shit went down with you and this guy Adam from your school…"

"Adam?" inquired Ryan. "Adam _McLean_?"

"Yeah. You and the Head Honcho killed him because he was boinkin' your girl or some-shit, and then Lily got to join but wasn't officially a 'Member' of this little group of ours. Then he assigned us to do a bunch of shit, and you and I started a shitload of trouble in New York. Once you ran into that Sora-guy who had a Keyblade of his own. Then you kinda just hung around, and one of the Members, Marluxia, caught you snooping through his shit because he knew you knew he was a traitor, and now I'm trying to kill _him_ because he threatened to murder _you_."

Roxas was now staring at Axel as if he had three heads.

Axel sighed helplessly, "Look, man, I know it sounds crazy, but you gotta believe me-"

"How can I possibly believe any of this shit?"

"-you're Member XIII, and you're my best friend." Tears sprung to Axel's eyes, and his nose began to burn. "Shit, man, _please_ remember…"

"I…I don't," said Ryan, looking a bit frustrated.

"You have to believe me at least!" wailed Axel. "Please! It's all true. You're a part of the Organization, and we used to bust everyone's balls a lot and just chill out in the Labs. At first I didn't know if I liked you or not, but that was because you got into your job, you were like…"

"…like?"

_Like this_, Axel wanted to say. _Angry, frustrated, and depressed. Got that shit memorized, motherfucker?_

"Nevermind. Just, c'mon…"

"Look," said Roxas, taking another step forward. Axel did not move. "I don't know who the hell you are or _what_ the hell you're talking about, but I'm going home. I have enough shit to deal with as it is, okay?"

"Wait." Axel was now shaking with fear of losing his friend for good. "Just give me a half hour. The Labs aren't far from here. I'll go and get you your Keyblades, and maybe some shit will come back to you." Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Just a half hour. Please."

"Why can't I go with you?"

"Marluxia might be waiting there for you. I might've convinced him to lay off, but for all I know, he's sharpening his scythe to rip you apart. Man, _please_, a half hour."

"…okay. Hurry the fuck up, alright? It's getting late, and I have school…I think."

Axel rushed out of the hotel, his mind racing. Roxas, his best friend, hadn't a clue who he was or what the hell was going on. Everything that happened after his initiation was just…gone. The red-haired pyro _sprinted_ to Oblivion Labs, went into the cellar it was located in, went through the lobby, and right into Vexen's lab.

"Vex!" he cried. "Vex, I need Roxas' Keyblades."

Vexen was on the phone with God knew who, but immediately told the person he had to go and hung up.

"What's the matter?" asked Vexen. "Hopefully not bad news; Zexion just intimidated his way onto a private jet with the Dusks on-board. He'll be here soon. The time is almost here."

_Oh fuck_!  
"Oh fuck!" Axel said out loud. He fished his pockets for something, then pulled out the parts he had found in the mysterious computer store across from the hotel. "I need you to examine these."

"What the…Axel, this is no time for…"

"I think it's important. But not the most important thing to _me_ right now. Right _now_, I need to have Roxas' Keyblades. Do you know where they are?"

"Why?"

"I can't tell you," Axel pleaded. "I just can't, man."

"Is Roxas in danger?"

"Possibly."

"If so, I'll tell you, but first I want to give you something."

"No time, no time…"

"I'll make it quick, then." Vexen went to one of his cupboards, and pulled out two metal disks. Axel stared at them, frowning. "I went to an auction in a more Islamic community in the city, and found these ancient throwing weapons people in India used to use. They're called chakrams, and for a while they've been a part of my 'cool-weapon-collection', as Demyx likes to call it. I tricked 'em out a little while I was waiting for Zexion…tricked 'em out _especially_ for you." Although the anticipation of a new gift intrigued Axel, he was more impressed by the way Vexen acted around him; the guy was as geeky as Zexion and could be as cold-hearted and intelligent, but was also…_cool_. Cool in ways Zexion would never be.

"What do they do?" asked Axel.

Vexen smiled, held the chakrams correctly, and his thumbs slowly moved up on small pads that were on each of the weapons. Quickly the metal went red with heat, and then suddenly Vexen was holding two rings out flames.

"Holy…_shit_…" breathed Axel.

Vexen smiled. "That was the reaction I was looking for. Here, take 'em. Oh, and Roxas' Keyblades are in his room, I think."

"Thanks, Vexen. You're the fucking _man_."

"I know."

Axel ran with the chakrams in one hand. He rushed to Roxas' room, and slammed the door open in his urgency. There, the white-and-black _Oathkeeper_ and _Oblivion_ sat on his friend's bed. With his free hand, Axel grabbed the two blades by their hilts, and rushed back out of the Labs with handfuls of weapons. He ran through the streets again (catching some very wary eyes) and back up into the hotel, through the hallways, into the hotel room, only to find Roxas not there.

"Mother. Fucker," he snarled and went downstairs to the clerk.

"Was there a blonde kid that walked downstairs earlier?" he asked.

The clerk, a middle-aged woman, said lazily, "Yeah, just a second ago. He was heading towards the city."

"Thanks."

Axel sprinted again, and hailed a taxi. Together, they went across the Queensboro Bridge and into Manhattan. On the way, Axel wondered vaguely if he was losing his mind with all this fucking stress, and came to the conclusion that that moment had passed a long, long time ago.

They drove onto Park Avenue, where Axel spotted his blonde-haired buddy walking into Central Park. The sun was setting. If that Rox-asshole got into any sort of fucking trouble, he wouldn't know how to handle himself.

Axel hopped out of the cab and ran towards his friend.

"Roxas!" he screamed. "Roxas! Gah…RYAN!"

Roxas turned around as the lights of the Park flickered and turned on. This man was not the Roxas Axel remembered; this was Ryan Hall, and Lord was he an angry fellow.

"Look!" Axel said, and threw the Keyblades at his friend's feet. "There they are. Your weapons."

Roxas picked them up. Frowning, as he weighed them in his hands, he spoke, "This _does_ feel kinda familiar."

"Oh, thank God," said Axel. "So you'll come back to the Labs with me, right?"

Ryan growled, "Look, jackass, I've had just about enough of you fucking around with me, okay? It's time for you to back off."

Something, then, broke inside Axel, just snapped right there on the spot. Although generally a sarcastic, happy-go-lucky motherfucker, this Ryan Hall had pissed him off royally.

"Listen you punk-ass motherfucker," he said menacingly, so menacingly that even Roxas looked slightly taken-aback. "You're coming with me…" He flicked his new chakrams around his fingers and pressed the pads upwards; the disks burst into flame. "…conscious or not."

"You fucking try it," Roxas retaliated. "You picked the wrong night to mess with me. Got _that_ memorized?"

Axel laughed and stepped forward, spinning the chakrams with ease. "You're taking over my friend, Ryan Hall, and I'm not diggin' it. This is _my_ show, now. And in my show, _Roxas_ stars alongside with me."

He swung the chakram in a blaze of ember. Metal collided with metal as Roxas blocked the attack with his Keyblade. Axel felt the sole of his former friend's foot dig into his stomach, and he was thrown backwards a couple of feet by the force of Roxas' kick.

"Ah," laughed Axel, spitting blood. "You're actually putting up a fight. I'm SO FLATTERED!" He increased the heat of the chakrams and ran at Roxas again. This time, he put all of his might into his swings, not letting his adversary get a chance to attack again. Roxas was barely hanging onto his Keyblades, looking very frightened all of a sudden.

Axel gave a hard swing and they both watched as the black Keyblade flew from Roxas' hands. Axel watched as it landed into the ground blade-first before he was flying backwards again, searing pain shredding across his torso. He looked down after stumbling to see a tear in his shirt revealing a small gash. As minor as it looked, it certainly hurt like hell. Axel looked up to see Roxas, holding his other—blood-stained—Keyblade, grinning like a jack-o-lantern.

"Oh, bastard," Axel muttered.

_Time for a new tactic_.

He threw his left chakram at his friend. It flew through the air, a humongous firebug, before it was smacked aside by the Keyblade. Angered at his failed attempt, Axel ran forward and began swinging again, roaring as he did so. Roxas blocked his attacks yet again, and the two Members fought maniacally for another five minutes that seemed almost like eternity.

_Time to end this!_

Axel took a single step back, withdrawing from their dual, and threw his chakram up into the air as high as he could. Roxas looked up on after it, and Axel took the split-second of distraction to punch his friend with all his might right into the face.

Roxas crumpled to the ground with a meaty thud, out-cold yet again.

Axel caught the chakram, picked up his other, and tuned them down. He was panting heavily; the kid had worn him the fuck out.

"Jesus, man," he sighed to Roxas. "You put up a hell of a fight."

A jogger with a backpack came running towards them, and Axel responded immediately by throwing one of his new weapons right into the man. From this poor innocent, Axel collected his weapon and the man's backpack, storing the Keyblades and chakrams in each. He picked up Roxas again and said, "My dude, you were a _real prick_ before the Organization. We're going back to the Labs. I'll have to lock your fucking room door in case Marluxia gets any ideas, but being confined in there is much better than you walking around out _here_."

_7:17 PM_

"I can't believe it," Sora groaned as he laid on the bed he had been given at the Grill, a bar and motel that he and Don were staying at in Matamoras, the Pennsylvanian town right on the Delaware River. "Driving around _all day_, and _nothing_. We must've been to a hundred public places in Pennsylvania alone."

Matamoras was a part of the tri-state area. It bordered Port Jervis of New York, and Montague of New Jersey. Matamoras was an interesting town built at the foot of a large cliff. Although home to many big-branch companies like Wendy's, Walmart, Kmart, Perkin's, McDonald's, and Stewart's, it was also home to smaller, family-friendly businesses, and there were enough people either living or passing through town to share. It was a lovely little town in Sora's opinion, and was by far much nicer than the ominous Port Jervis that was merely across the Delaware.

"Relax," said Don from the bathroom as he brushed his teeth. "Tomorrow's another day. We'll start with Milford first thing in the morning."

"No," said Sora instantly. "That's too far from the river."

"Would you prefer to look around Port Jervis?"

"Although it pains me to say it…probably. That seems like the place an Organization Member would hide."

"Fair enough. At least we got to look around places. That's my favorite part about this job. Especially in the summer. Summer evenings spent outdoors are the best."

"Better get your shits and giggles in now, summer's gonna end soon."

"It's mid-August. I'm not worried about Halloween yet."

"Funny how all the stores are."

"Yep. And the day after Halloween…up comes Christmas decorations. Not Thanksgiving, though, because that's not really a holiday as much as it is a meal. Then after Christmas…BAM, Valentine's Day. After that…BAM, Easter. Then after that is Fourth of July. Then…repeat the cycle. Fucking marketing, am I right?"

Sora laughed heartily and said, "Your new stand-up routine?"

"Don't tell Mick, corny stand-up has always been my secret passion."

"Ha!"

"No, but seriously. I just observe things is all."

"I'm observing the fact that you're brushing your teeth when we haven't even gotten any dinner yet."

"Cleanliness is fun for me."

"Eating is fun for _me_, especially after a hard day's work of accomplishing nothing."

Don left the bathroom and grabbed his car keys off the dresser. "Let's go, then, bedhead."

They got into the car as the sun was setting, and Don asked, "Where d'you wanna eat?"

"Perkin's works. It's been a while since I've had an actual hot meal."

"Me too; I'm guessing you forgot I was on our little espionage with Demyx."

"I'm so hungry that my _stomach_ is telling you to shut up."

Don laughed for a while as they drove just a little bit down the highway to the Kmart-plaza that consisted of many other stores, a Wendy's, and the Perkin's. The two went inside, sat down, and ordered.

As they waited, they spotted a family of redheads eyeing them from across the restaurant, eyeing Don in particular. It was a family of three boys, a middle-aged man, and an elderly woman. The man stood up finally and walked over to the two, looking a bit nervous.

"Are you Don?" he asked.

"That'd be me," said Don. "Who're you?"

"Name's Simon. I live in Montague, a small little place, with my family back there. I contacted your boss, Senator Mick, which is why I do believe you are here. He gave me descriptions of the agents he was sending, and you guys fit the bill.

"See the little one at my table? He's my youngest at nine years-old. Name's Ron. He was hiking along the river one day and found a shady-lookin' redheaded guy. The dude was pretty suspicious, and dropped this." From his pocket, Simon pulled a small metal disk that looked incredibly riddled with computer equipment. "Some sorta tracking device. Smells like Heartless-mischief to me, so I called the Senator up.

"But that part's not even close as interesting as this next part…at least to you guys. The thing is…we saw the same guy just a few minutes ago before coming here. We spent all day searching for you two, but we ended up finding _him_."

"Where was he?" asked Sora excitedly. Under the table, Don was loading rounds into his gun.

"We'll…we'll show you. Sorry to interrupt your meal, but if this really is the guy you're after, we can lead you to where he is. It'll be difficult for you out-of-towners to find."

"Okay," said Sora, hopping out of his chair. "Let's go."

Simon motioned at his family to come on over, and they did so. Ron introduced himself first, rather politely. Next were the two older boys, each sixteen, named Sky and Theo. The old woman was Simon's mother, Natasha. They drove here in a rather large, white van due to their family size. Each member of the family, Sora noted, was extremely polite.

"You can drive with us," said Simon. "We have more than enough room for two others…plus you're nothing but skin and bones, Sora."

Sora grinned, nodded, and hopped right on into the van. Don did so as well; the children and Natasha were all eyeing his gun nervously.

They drove out of the Perkin's parking lot and down past the Grill, taking a right right in front of the bridge over the Delaware to Port Jervis. Now they were driving alongside the river, the reflection of the setting sun beautifully twinkling on the calm waters. The group eventually drove to a dead end in the road that was entirely surrounded by forest.

"He's down below," said Simon. "Down by the river."

"Okay," said Don, opening the door and getting ready to hop out. "Thank you."

"Allow me to point out the direction…" said Simon, getting out of the car as well.

Sora hopped out next to Don. Simon came over, stood next to Sora, and took out a small pistol which he then pressed against Sora's head. Sora hissed in surprise, and Don immediately turned his gun to the redheaded father.

"Drop the weapon," demanded Simon. "Or he dies."

"Fuck," swore Sora. "Just shoot him, Don."

"If he does," spoke up Theo, coming out of the van with a hunting rifle. Sky was doing the same. "He'll have me'n Sky to deal with. Plus Grams." Now Natasha was coming out of the van with a pistol of her own. She pointed it at Don.

Don looked around, trying to come up with a possible getaway, but he found that there was none. They were trapped. He put the gun down on the ground and slid it towards Theo, who picked it up.

"Check the kid, Dad," said Sky.

Simon did so, and pulled out Sora's pistol and Keyblade. The former he threw to his mother, the latter he stared at, confused.

"Walking stick," lied Sora. "My dad gave it to me before he died. Please, I beg of you, don't take it from me."

Simon sighed and shoved the Keyblade back into Sora's pocket before saying, "You're lucky I'm a good guy. Hell, we're _all_ good guys. But if we don't do this, he'll kill us."

"Who?" asked Don. "Lexaeus?"

"Damn straight," said Sky. "And he's a shit-ton more scary than you two. C'mon, guys, let's take a walk."

At gunpoint, Sora and Don were escorted off the pavement and into the mosquito-filled woods. Simon escorted Don, while Theo escorted Sora. Natasha held hands with little Ron, and Sky took the rear, looking solemn.

After about five minutes of walking, running water became audible to the group. Either Lexaeus was waiting there, or this family would be taking them to their deaths, and were only doing so by the river to have someplace to dispose the two bodies.

Sora whispered to Theo, "Listen, Theo. Please. I know this guy is frightening. I know he seems powerful…but he isn't. We can protect you."

"Can that bullshit!" shouted Sky from behind. "He's the biggest and the strongest. He's gonna wipe you people off the face of the Earth."

Theo looked at Sora apologetically. "Sorry about Sky. He's all-for this guy."

"Damn right," said the brother. "It was only a matter o'time before the Heartless came and got me."

"He's not a Heartless," said Don in an almost pleading voice. "He's something else. If he's promised you glory, Sky, he has none to give. He will kill you all whether or not you kill us."

"Shut up!" screamed Sky. "Shut up, shut up!"

Theo informed Sora in a low whisper as his brother and Don argued, "Sky's been a fucking crook for years. Lexaeus took a liking to him, saying he was gonna give him an empire in Middletown, which ain't too far from here. Is he really not a Heartless?"

"He isn't," assured Sora.

"Then, maybe, we can get out of this," whispered Theo. "All we'd have to do is get rid of Sky somehow, someway. Here's your pistol back." He put it in Sora's pocket. "I trust you, man."

"Thanks. You promise to try and keep my friend and me alive?"

"Yeah, man. I promise."

"You shouldn't have done that," spoke a low, gravelly voice.

Theo was hit by something, something hard, and went flying into the weeds of the woods. Natasha and Ron screamed, Sky yelled "FUCK!", Simon cried "_No!_" and Sora and Don looked in horror as Theo lay in the grass, dead, a wound in his chest.

Hovering above him, clad in shadowy robes, hatchet covered with blood in hand, stood Lexaeus. He was big, a foot taller than Don himself, and rather strong. He was not smiling whatsoever

"You _sonofabitch_!" screamed Simon. He ran over to his son's body and cradled it, sobbing. "You _fucker_! How the fuck _could you_?"

Lexaeus said rather coldly, "He gave me no choice." He looked at Sora and Donald and said, "You think I didn't _know_ you two peckerwoods were trying to find me all day? I _know_ who you are, Sora. We all do, now. Why is it that you keep meddling with our business?"

"You killed my parents, you fuck," said Sora, his teeth chattering with a mixture of fear and fury. "And even if you kill me now, at least I got one of you. Luxord's worm-food in Nevada."

For a moment, Lexaeus looked genuinely shocked, but then his cool demeanor resurfaced. "Is that right? That's why we haven't been hearing from that drunken 'tard? Ha!" He paced. "You seem to know a lot about us. How much?"

"Demyx spilled the beans to us. We know about the Virus. We know about Ryan Hall, Marla Shift, and Xehanort, too."

"Ah, Jesus," said Lexaeus. His face was one of a man who has had too many pounds of stress put on him, and was about to snap in two under the crushing weight. "Demyx? He's a traitor, eh?"

"Not exactly. His hood fell off when you fuckers took my parents. I recognized him. Guess you shouldn't have hired a professional musician to be a spy. Dumb move on your part."

"So…what the Christly fuck happened?" Lexaeus looked disturbed. "You captured Demyx, I assume?"

"Yep. And beat the living shit out of him to tell us where Luxord was. We went to Vegas, and had a little struggle with him. The guy was so drunk that he toppled out of his window and fell a couple stories. We didn't stay for the funeral."

Lexaeus sighed. He looked incredibly stressed.

"You do know," he said. "What comes next, correct?"

"Of course," said Sora. He was shaking all over. "You kill us."

"I truly regret it," said Lexaeus sorrowfully. "But you know too much. I can't let you live. Demyx later, but first you two."

"So do it," said Sora. He raised his chin, ready to die with honor. "Take that fucking axe of yours and do it."

"Wha…? Ha! I cannot kill you…I could not _bare_ to! You truly think I am as sadistic as my colleagues?"

"Yes." No hesitation. "You just killed that boy."

"Ah, yes, but only because I _had_ to. Self-defense, my friend. Self-defense. Sky, please rid me of these two."

Sora turned, anticipating the feeling of a bullet ripping right through him and spilling his innards all over the place. But Sky, the supposed crook, was looking at the body of his brother, his mouth open in a gape, his eyes full of tears. Natasha and Ron clutched onto each other, crying hysterically.

"Do it," said Lexaeus, a bit more forcefully. "You know there was no other way, Sky! Kill these two, now! All the glory in the world at your fingertips!"

Sky looked up at him, and said in a low voice, "I…I don't want to. Fuck your glory, and f-fuck yuh-you." He lowered his head again, and his young face hid beneath his curtains of hair.

Lexaeus growled through clenched teeth, "You fucking do it, or I'll get the pink-haired guy back here. And he'll kill your entire family. Slowly and painfully, one by one. Do you _dare_ test me? Would you like to see what happens when you do so? _SHOOT THEM NOW_!"

Tears fell from Sky's face, and Sora saw the hands clutching the rifle were white and trembling. But when Sky looked up, the anticipated look of grief was in all reality a stare of intense red-hot loathing, directed at Lexaeus. Sky pointed the gun, indeed, but towards the redheaded man who promised him glory instead of the two agents who promised him safety.

And then the boy spoke, his voice hoarse, "No. My brother and I may not have seen eye to eye…I was a bit more rougher, I guess. But he did not deserve to die. If anything, I do. But if I'm goin' down, I'm takin' your ginger ass with me. Y'hear me, cocksucker? You ain't gonna bully my family anymore."

The Member knew what was about to happen right then. Lexaeus' hard look melted into fear, and he sprinted away into the woods, hatchet in hand. Sky fired once, missed, and then ran after the murderer of his brother. Sora and Donald looked at each other, nodded, and then ran as well. As he ran Sora wielded the Keyblade and it glowed in the rapidly-darkening woods with the emotions he felt as he ran after this man, this _accomplice_.

They ran out of the woods and onto the rocky shore of the Delaware River. In the distance, beyond the two silhouettes of Lexaeus and Sky, Sora saw a boat ready in the river. Sora's best bet was that this was Lexaeus', and it was probably full of things he could use to kill all of them in seconds. Lexaeus was running desperately towards it, a hulking figure in the night.

Sky rushed forward to try and tackle the man, knowing his aim would be horrible in the darkness. Unfortunately for him, Lexaeus turned around. He swung the hatchet twice, making incredibly low swooshing noises that were nightmarish to hear. Then, as Sora and Don approached the battlefield, they heard the sound of metal going into flesh, and Sky went down, his throat hacked open by the hatchet.

Behind them, Simon roared.

"What the fuck are you doing?" yelled Sora. "Get back to your kid!"

But Simon was rushing forward to attempt to extract vengeance upon a man he could not beat.

_He's gonna make little Ronnie an orphan_, Sora thought. He turned around and jammed the hilt of the Keyblade into Simon's face. Simon fell onto the gravelly shore in a spray of blood, knocked out cold. Sora turned back to see Don rushing towards Lexaeus, who was readying his hatchet for a third kill.

"C'mon!" screamed Lexaeus. "Let's fucking do this, _Donald_!"

The big man had made it to the small boat, and from it he pulled a handgun of his own. Unarmed, Don was forced to turn and make an abrupt getaway into the trees next to the shoreline. A bullet followed him but missed.

"No!" yelled Sora, taking out the pistol Theo had given him, and fired thrice at Lexaeus. All of the shots missed, instead making impact into the water behind them. Lexaeus turned and, grinning insanely, pulled his own trigger. Sora felt the bullet whiz past him, rippling his hair.

And then something extraordinary occurred. Although when fighting Luxord Sora thought he was to die, here battling with Lexaeus he felt a humongous wave of confidence overflow him. He suddenly had a new way of thinking, a bit more optimistic.

It was not _I am going to die_. Instead, it was, _What can I do to live?_

And then he _knew_. He wasn't sure how he did later, but right then it was almost instinctive. Sora raised the Keyblade, and from its tip came an intense stream of energy that he had never seen before. The thin beam went directly into the barrel of Lexaeus' gun, which then exploded into small fragments of metal. Lexaeus, his hand torn up and bleeding, howled.

It was enough time for the ultimate distraction. Don came out of the woods in a hurry. Lexaeus turned and raised the hatchet, yet Don was quicker; after a tackle that would make the most professional of football players burn with envy, both men fell into the water.

Sora ran forward. He helped Don out of the water, and together they stared at Lexaeus. He was face-first in the shallows, coughing and spluttering, blood surrounding him. Together, Don and Sora flipped their adversary, and Sora groaned at the sight.

When he had been tackled, Lexaeus had fallen upon his hatchet. Right now, it stuck out from the part of his torso immediately under his chest. He was breathing heavily with the pain.

"Please," he whispered. "Please…get it out of me. Please, just get it out of me…Pull it out…"

"Tell me anything you know about the Virus," said Sora, although he knew the man's time was nigh.

"It is…done…it is…completed," wheezed Lexaeus. "Please…get it out of me…please…"

"You ruined that family back there. You killed two boys. That thing in your chest can follow you to Hell for all I fucking care."

Lexaeus gave one last fearful glance. Then, his eyes glossed over and his breathing stopped for good.

The sun had set.

* * *

**DAWN OF THE SECOND DAY**

_6:00 AM_

After thinking for an hour or so, Axel finally left his room to check up on his friend, who hadn't made a peep since last night's struggle. Instinctively, Axel reached for his Organization robes to put them on, then decided against doing so. It would almost be mocking; he was planning on killing a Member who was greatly appreciated by the Head Honcho, and it was against one of the main rules of the Organization to kill another Member.

Many times Axel had pondered about just telling a superior Member about Marluxia and his possible assassination attempts, but if that happened Marluxia would be asked for _his_ side of the story. And, if even if he wasn't telling the truth he could probably still tell a wicked lie. Then that pink-haired sonofabitch would be right after Roxas _and_ Axel. And Axel wasn't too fond of the idea of being killed slowly over the course of days, perhaps weeks if he had gotten the demon mad enough.

He knew there was not much reason to believe Marluxia was a traitor. He was not stupid.

However, whether Marluxia was a traitor or not did not matter anymore. What mattered was that the serial killer had threatened to kill Roxas, and when Axel had talked to him two days ago he had seemed just about ready to do so. And Roxas, memory restored or not, was not going to die in such a way on Axel's watch.

_Why?_ He asked himself. _Why is that?_

_Because that's what friends do._

Yes. That was it. That was why. They might've been a part of a mass-murder ploy, but they had _fun_ together, and certainly cared about one another.

Axel walked into Roxas' room to find his friend unconscious still. His breathing was steady, and some of the water Axel had left for him was gone. Axel filled it, fluffed Roxas' pillow, then walked out to face an eager-looking Marluxia.

"Fuck!" Axel gasped. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I can't wait anymore. I just _can't_. He offended me so badly, yes, oh yes, and now he _has_ to pay…" Axel saw with horror that Marluxia had brought his scythe with him.

"No!" cried Axel. "Not yet. We had a plan, remember?"

Marluxia snorted. "I impregnate one girl? That's it?"

"What if I throw in a murder?"

Marluxia's eyes twinkled.

"Is that possible?" the killer asked.

"Yes!" said Axel, sighing with relief. "I can get someone else. A pretty girl, perhaps. Just be patient, my friend…"

Marluxia chewed it over, then said, "Ugh. Fine. We'll continue with your plan _if_ you promise to give me someone else to kill. Preferably while I impregnate the Ion-girl."

"Why?"

"Do not ask," said Marluxia harshly.

"Hey, okay, okay…Relax, man. I'll get you someone to kill. Do you promise to keep Roxas alive?"

"I…promise."

"Okay." Axel placed a hand on Marluxia's shoulder. "Thanks."

"Thank you, too…f-friend."

Axel gave his most charming smile and pushed past Marluxia. The killer watched him go, a warm feeling suddenly relaxing the muscles in his chest. He hadn't felt such a way since…well, since _her_. That girl from back in his younger days. He and Axel shared a common goal, and maybe when they were done destroying Roxas, they could kill other people together.

He smiled and pictured himself instructing Axel how to bury bodies in and for Central Park.

"Friends," he said happily, then skipped down to his room, scythe in hand.

_6:49 AM_

Vexen, wearing his robes, leaned against his clean, black car, sunglasses glistening in the early morning sun, watching as the small jet landed on this small strip of clearness here in Scranton, Pennsylvania. The drive here hadn't been that hard, just a couple of hours, and he hardly slept at night anyways. The airport had been closed, yet Vexen still easily drove onto the landing strip with relative ease.

The small plane rode past the man and the car after landing, and Vexen walked towards it once it stopped completely. The engine of the machine died down, and the propellers slowly lost the velocity they were once at.

A man fell onto the pavement of the landing strip, moaning and groaning, dressed in a typical pilot's outfit. Vexen hovered over him and he looked up.

"Mister," croaked the man. "Mister, _please_…the guy…is…insane…"

"Ehh. Not really," said Vexen cheerfully. He pulled a small gun from his pocket and shot the man in the back twice. The man jerked with each impact, then lay still. Vexen looked up as another man exited the plane.

The man was wearing Organization robes as well. He was currently bespectacled and was holding a gun of his own in one hand, a large book in the other. His face, which was usually devoid of any emotion, now showed a sadistic triumph with a small yet malicious smile. His eyes shone brightly underneath his long hair, some of which had gone prematurely gray…almost white.

"Welcome back," Vexen said, smiling.

Zexion nodded and said, "The Dusks are in the back of the plane."

"How can we bring them home?"

"We're not going to. Is that your car?"

"Yep."

"Good; let's leave this miserable town."

Vexen looked at him, shocked. "What of the Dusks?"

"They'll leave the plane eventually, and begin to stir up some trouble here. We can monitor their progress from home, which is where I really want to be right now. How long's the drive from here?"

"Three hours."

"Alrighty. Let's get a move on."

"'kay."

They got into the car and drove in silence.

_8:30 AM_

Axel came from the kitchen after making himself an omelet, and silently watched television in the Lobby, thinking over things. Lately, things had been going not-so-smoothly. The rest of the Organization was excited, huge breakthroughs and all, but Axel's personal life had taken a turn for the worse. This ploy of his was so flimsy, and he knew it. It seemed ingenious at first, but now that the day was approaching in which he would have to act out upon it, he was beginning to have second thoughts.

And now he had promised Marluxia a person to kill.

"Jesus," he said aloud to himself, and chuckled madly. Where the fuck would he find another girl?

The elevator rang as the two steel doors opened, and in came Member XIII, Roxas, wearing his Organization robes.

"Roxas!" cried Axel. "What're you doing out-?"

"Stop," said Roxas, holding his head in pain. "Where…where am I? This place is familiar." He looked at Axel. Axel looked at him. For a minute they stood their, looking at one another. Then, Roxas spoke again, "You…and I…we're…we're best friends…aren't we?"

"Yes," said Axel thankfully. "Yeah. You remember?"

"Sorta."

"What _do_ you remember?"

"We're trying to destroy the world, aren't we?"

"Yeah!"

"I have Keyblades…we're apart of a group called the System…"

"Organization," Axel corrected.

"Yeah, that."

"Can you remember anyone's names?"

"Not really. Sorry. But I remember faces and…personalities…" He looked around nervously. "Tall scarred guy. Big black-haired guy. Eyepatch-guy. Crazy-girl. You. The two smart guys, one who was nice and the other who was really mean. The pink-haired dude." His eyes grew. "The pink-haired dude. Lily. He wants to kill us doesn't he?"

"Yes! Yes!" Axel exclaimed. "Fucking _yes_! Marluxia is after you, and you and I came up with a plan to kill him off quickly before he destroys you guys."

"Where is she?" asked Roxas, hysterical. "Where is Lily?"

"It's…her name is _Xion_, now. And you're Roxas. Okay? Got that memorized? I'm Axel. The pink-haired dude is Marluxia."

"Yeah…I remember those names…"

"Fucking good."

"Axel…you say we made a plan to kill Marluxia?"

"Yeah. We're gonna lure him into a hotel with Xion (and now another person) inside. I'm gonna rig the place to blow. When he's inside, I'll call another Member and tell them Marluxia's gone traitor and is now trying to kill Xion. They go in, I tell them what room she's in, and it's a done deal."

"Wait…how will they get her out without Marluxia trying to kill her?"

"I'm gonna tell him she's on the top floor when she'll be in a coatroom near the dining area on the first floor."

"I feel sick," said Roxas, sitting down on the black couch and holding his stomach. He was pale.

"A lot _can_ go wrong," Axel nodded. "But if we don't do anything, Marluxia is gonna kill you both. And you can't leave. You can't go AWOL on the Organization."

"Awful lot of good joining this shitty thing got us," said Roxas darkly.

"I hear ya', man."

"So where's my girlfriend, Axel?"

"With our boss. Do you remember his name?"

"Zinort?"

"Xehanort."

"Xehanort. right. We all have X's in our names out of respect for him."

"Got it memorized?"

"Got it memorized."

"Cool," said Axel. "It'll all be okay, man. Ya hear?"

"Yeah, dude. I hear." But he still looked miserable.

"I've gotta go out soon," said Axel. "But I have time to spare. We both do."

"What should we do?"

Axel lit up a cigarette and motioned to the Xbox in the room.

"Wanna play hockey?"

_9:00 AM_

Sora and Don walked down the porch steps of the house in Port Jervis, carrying their duffel bags. Behind them, Natasha and Ron had plastic bags full of sweet treats for their two new friends, and Simon was opening the trunk of Don's car so they could put their things inside.

When the packing was done and the food delivered to the two agents, Simon shook both Sora's and Don's hands.

"Thank you," he said. "So much. Although our family will…well, will never really be the same again, I am so thankful you could keep some of us alive. Especially Ron. He gets to live a long fulfilling life because of you two fine gentlemen. I cannot thank you enough."

"You're very welcome, Simon," said Sora, putting his hands behind his head casually.

Simon then unexpectedly embraced both of them. Don and Sora smiled at each other after the man had let go, his eyes watery.

"I owe you my life," Simon whispered to them. "If you ever need any help in the future…let me know. Anything. And you need to hold me to it."

"Now, c'mon, Simon…" said Don uncomfortably.

"Seriously."

"…alright. But don't count on it."

Sora and Don hopped into the car and pulled out of the driveway. The three surviving family members waved and then went inside with one another.

"What a nice family," remarked Sora.

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

"Just sad, is all. And pissed. Pissed at the Organization."

"Lexaeus is dead."

"Yep."

"So what now?"

"Looks like we'll have to drive back to Manhattan and see."

They left Matamoras that morning, but once they had arrived back in the city, they would be wishing they had stayed.

_10:04 AM_

After gaming a bit, Axel went out to see Times Square for a little while. He needed to calm his jangling nerves, do something where he had power, and a place that was so full of light and life was the perfect location for a pyromaniac such as himself. Before he had left, he went to his room to change into ordinary, boring-civilian clothes and to grab a weapon or two. He instinctively went to put on his old flamethrowers, but then he remembered the chakrams. Feeling guilty about leaving his old weapons behind, but acknowledging the new ones were much better, Axel left with Vexen's new weapons in a suitcase, which he was now carrying around the city, dressed like a businessman over his Organization robes.

He was happy to get out, too. Saix had gotten a call from Larxene; Xaldin had been shot to death. Axel's heart had sunk down to his knees when he had heard that. Apparently it was one of that scrotum-licking Senator's agents who also worked for the criminal whore who thought she still had some power left in this world. Saix had called up Xehanort, and he was most displeased with this development. Xaldin was dead, Luxord was not answering his phone, Demyx was going insane, and Lexaeus, now, was not picking up either. Weird shit was going down.

_Plus, I'm going to kill Marluxia_, Axel remembered. He felt saddened by the way things were going, but decided to just move on and "keep on trucking", as they say. It didn't matter in the long run. In the long run, they'd be riding chariots.

But Axel somehow doubted that. All of this Organization-business, it seemed to good to be true, too _crazy_ to be true. He had been a slacker all his life, always questioning authority, and although he was undyingly loyal to what the Organization stood for he truly always believed that this entire adventure would end with a SWAT-team barging into Oblivion Labs and arresting or killing all thirteen of them. Kingdom Hearts, the Keyblades, the Roswell Incident…it all seemed like a bad joke. And perhaps it _was_ a bad joke. The Big Guy could be just pulling their strings, all along, laughing and going to whatever fucked-up second life he seemed to have. He was, after all, almost never with them on missions, always looking over things from afar.

Yet Axel didn't believe _that_, despite his nonchalance towards the goals of his friends and him. He trusted the Head Honcho, more than, perhaps, he trusted himself. Xehanort had been the only remote father-figure in Axel's entire life.

As Lea, he was mocked and scolded by his family for his obsession with fire, which had started when he was around four years-old after seeing a Fourth of July accident occur in which a truck went ablaze. Sparks and embers, incredibly heated, orange and red…so beautiful.

As a younger child, he would light fireworks off a lot by himself, blowing up toy army soldiers right after buying them or getting them for Christmas. When he was ten, he began to make his own bombs and got into the pyro's national pastime: chain-smoking. As a teenager in high school he had been well-respected and feared after he was suspected on lighting the school's guidance office on fire, and for his cruel and sarcastic sense of humor. However, whenever invited to a party or some event due to his popularity, he would always find _something_ to burn. Napkins, food, cars…

It was only as an adult that he realized he enjoyed lighting _people_ on fire as well.

But, despite enjoying the heat of the flame, Axel was still a person. And he was a person who had his friends in danger. That could not go on for much longer, he thought, or he truly would go insane. A life with no fun was…well, no fun. No fun at _all_.

And then he saw _her_.

She was easy to spot for her hair was like fire in itself. Red and smooth, warm and comforting. Axel's eyes immediately went to it, then his inner flame was doused in shock to find an agent next to her, whose description matched with one of the agents Senator Mouse had hired to meddle in their business. So, the girl…

"Kairi," he whispered.

He went towards her, grinning broadly, plotting quickly. In his head he heard the narrator of _The Grinch_-cartoon utter, _And right then, he had an awful, terrible idea…_ This made him laugh as well.

"Kairi!" he called, running over.

She turned and he saw her smooth, pretty face.

_Holy hell_, he thought. _She's a fuckin' 'beaut. Damn shame._

"Lea!" she said happily. The agent looked at her questioningly, but she ignored him. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here on Senator Mick's orders, of course."

The agent looked surprised, and a trifle bit doubtful. "You work for the Senator?"

"Damn straight."

"I don't believe you."

Axel feigned a hurt expression that the agent couldn't decide if it was genuine before saying, "Test my knowledge then."  
"Where is the Senator right now?"

"Seaside Heights," said Axel immediately; the Head Honcho told Saix all about it during their phone call. "With officers Braig and Everett. I'm a part of a second group of agents who're primarily set in D.C. Right now I'm undercover to try and find some rock star named Demyx." _I oughta do this for a fucking living_, thought Axel, smiling inside.

"So are we!" said Kairi.

_Whoa, holy shit. Good guess, asshole._

The agent looked surprised again, but no longer doubtful. "Shit, I guess you _do_ work for Mick."

"Indeed. And I also have a lead on this Demyx-guy already," said Axel. "Apparently he's been seen around the tavern down this alley here. A shady-looking place, so I really have no choice but to go undercover."

The agent looked down the alleyway, troubled.

Axel smiled at how easily he had set this trap up. If the guy was suspicious, he would not go down with Axel, but if there truly _was_ a tavern there and Axel was telling the truth about Demyx, then he would be obligated to go.

"We'll all go together," said the agent finally. "After you, Lea."

Axel nodded and walked into the darkness of the alleyway. The other two followed. It was a lot shorter than he had anticipated, he saw, and in mere seconds they would find out that there was no tavern whatsoever.

But clever Axel put on his next act and fell, yelling, "Shit!" He quickly rolled into a darker part of the alley.

Kairi asked, "Are you okay?"

"Tripped on a shoelace!" called Axel. He knelt down on one knee, making it look like he was tying his shoe, yet in all reality was opening up the suitcase. He took the chakrams out.

"Kairi," said the agent suddenly. "I don't think-"

Axel cranked the chakrams up to the maximum heat-capacity, and they illuminated the dark alleyway like portals into Hell itself. Kairi and the agent looked on in amazement at the fire-rings, and Axel used their awe to move forward and strike the agent hard. He went back, flying, smacking into the wall and crumpling to the paved ground.

The girl immediately got into action, punching him three times in the face, cutting his lip open and bloodying up his nose. Roaring, Axel swung the chakrams desperately, but the agile girl dodged them with ease and made a sprint towards the exit of the alleyway. If she got away, Axel would have hell to pay.

He threw the chakram with all his might, and it hit the girl in the leg. She squealed and fell to the ground. Axel was upon her in a second, handcuffing her and kicking her in the leg-wound for good measure. She gave a muffled cry as he put the chakrams back into the suitcase.

"Y'know, Kairi," said Axel. "It was only a matter of time before you got yourself fucked over."

She spat at him and he recoiled in disgust and anger. Little bitch. He picked her up and carried her down a couple blocks; if anyone asked, he would say he was rushing her to the hospital. Thankfully, nobody did.

They entered the closed hotel, and Axel took the stairs up to the fourth floor, placing her on the bed of one of the rooms. He took one of the cuffs off her, and that hand immediately smacked him across the face. He swore and punched her in the diaphragm, knocking the wind right out of her. Then Axel grabbed the cuff and locked the girl to the bed.

"You know," he said again. "These past couple of days have been driving me absolutely crazy. Total bat-shit. First of all, I _know_ Marluxia didn't hire anyone to kill us all. I know that. I went _into his room_ and saw the three men. They were his victims, not hired assassins. So my dumb ol' buddy goes into the psycho-shit's room, and now that pink-haired fuck is after him. So I _gotta_ intervene, right? Whether or not Marluxia is a traitor, which he isn't, means nothing to me. All that matters is that Roxas is in danger. So…I guess, in a way, Marluxia is _planning_ to betray the Organization. Catch my vibe, babe?"

Kairi groaned. "You're apart of the Organization? _You_?"

"'fraid so. Crazy, right? I can't even believe it sometimes." He paused. "Why the fuck am I talking to you, of all people, about this? I think I'm going crazy, Kairi. I really do. That, or I know you're going to die soon and it doesn't really matter what I tell you anyways."

"What are you going to do with me?"

"You'll see soon. Tomorrow night, actually, you will. If you pray to God, pray you live through whatever happens. I sure as hell know _I_ might not." His cell phone rang. "Fuck." He answered it. "Hello?"

"Axel?"

"Hey, Xiglicious!"

"I heard about Xaldin. The bastards."

"I know. Sucks. They'll get theirs in the end, though. Where you at, pal? Got my stuffs?"

"I'm home. Zexion is, too, he just got back."

"Cool beans. Tell Zekey I can't wait to see his fucked-up children."

"They're in Scranton."

"…why, dare I ask?"

"To cause trouble there, apparently. Anyways, yeah, I got your stuff. The Big Guy will be here tomorrow morning, but then he wants a bunch of us to go have a tour of the city and then dinner or something."

"I'm not invited?"

"Just the Six Trusted. Sorry, dude."

"S'cool. I have shit to do anyways. Why does he want you to take a tour of New York?"

"I dunno. Saix says he wants us to realize what we are doing and the amount of people we will potentially be destroying. Like we haven't gone so far as to not turn back now…we have to look at everyone in the frockin' city to tear up our last remaining strips of humanity."

"Sounds fun."

Xigbar laughed and said, "Well, yeah. The Labs are pretty much gonna be empty tomorrow night, is what I'm getting at. Zexion might not want to go, however; he says he feels sick. The dude looks horrible. You don't think he's getting cold feet, do you?"

"My Zexy? Hell no."

"Zexy? You're turnin' into Larxene, man."

"I'll chop of my balls tomorrow and you can all start calling me Missus Fender, then. What's the matter with him?"

"We asked, and all he said was that he slept with some girl in Hawaii and felt sick ever since."

Axel laughed long and heartily, Xigbar chiming in.

"Tell him I hope she gave him AIDS."

"He'll appreciate that."

"So do you have my shit, or not?"

"Yeah, it's all here. I'll put it in your room."

"In the quantities I asked for?"

"Fucking _yes_, Axel."

"Okay. You seen Roxas around there?"

"Nah, he's shut up in his room. Should I get him?"

"No. He's, uh…sick. Leave him be."

"What the fuck is spreading?" wondered Xigbar. "We're all virus-creators and we're coming down with the fucking sniffles? How's that for shit-irony?"

"Pretty shitty, brah."

"I'm off. Later, fire-crotch."

"Adios, dog-fucker."

He closed to phone and saw that Kairi was looking at him, aghast.

"…what?" he asked.

"Fender, you said," she whispered. "_Zeke Fender_?"

Axel studied her and asked, "Why?"

"I…I went to high school with him. I knew him pretty well…" She looked troubled.

Axel stared at her for a long time before saying, "I'm sorry it has to be this way, but it'll all be over tomorrow. Just…stay here in the meanwhile." He walked away, but stopped at the door. "Y'know…we're a lot alike you and I. Both oh-so-desperate to help the ones we care about." He laughed and left, shutting the door behind him, leaving her in darkness and within her own thoughts.

* * *

**So, there you have it. Have a nice day. Sorry the note at the top sounded so formal, and in the third person. I'm just really busy now. The end of the quarter is here, and I have finals. Three I think. So, eat potatoes, drink beer (only if you are of age) and enjoy the fucking Green Holiday.**

**Has a nice day. From the both of us. :D  
**


	25. Whispering Sweet Nothings

**Welcome, readers, Haji here. I'm going to keep this kind of short because it is late and I'm extremely very tired. First and foremost, I must apologize because I had finished this three or four days ago, and I had to edit it, and then my schedule filled up very fast. So, I hope you had a good weekend, and try not to get paranoid as the story addresses the most important problem. And I am so sorry that the site was not letting me upload anything for the longest time. Now, from my partner...**

******Another excellent chapter from haji! Be sure to thank her. I do believe we're almost ready to finish this story up. However, no fear; there is a sequel planned. But that's all we're giving away at this point in time. When the end is near, we will say our farewells properly.**

**Until then, stay safe. It's a dark world out there, in a darker universe.**

**I apologize for the formatting issues. And this chapter's quote, I thought, was relevent, so I decided to give you one today.**

Men best show their character in trifles, where they are not on their guard. It is in the simplest habits, that we often see the boundless egotism which pays no regard to the feelings of others and denies nothing to itself.

**—Arthur Schopenhauer**

* * *

10:45 AM

Scranton, Pennsylvania was thrown into a frenzy that morning when a groundskeeper first found the dead pilot's body. He had actually been staring at it for a long time before he realized what it was, and called Sheriff Garber, the head of the Scranton Police Department as soon as he pulled himself together.

Sheriff Garber pulled up to the airstrip in a Jeep, growling under his breath and only half paying attention to his Keith Urban CD. He stopped the car and opened the door, the lyrics of "If Ever I Could Love" following until the engine was cut abruptly.

"The fuck's going on out 'ere?" Sheriff Garber snorted. "I have things I need to be doin'. And they don't involve overseeing a murder investigation."

Sheriff Garber was a fat man, and spent most of his time behind his desk in his temperature-controlled office, staring at a computer screen all day. He was ugly and bitter, too, not at all appreciating his employees or even acknowledging their efforts. He hitched up his pants and ducked under the yellow POLICE tape. There was a forensics investigator looking over the pilot's body and shaking his head.

"What you got, Rick?"

Rick looked up. "I can't give you anything conclusive until I take the body to the lab. I mean, I could maybe give you a weapon, but even then…It ain't like anything I've ever seen."

Sheriff Garber huffed. "Well, what do you got? I don't have all day."

Rick frowned. "Well, now this is loose mind you. Very loose. The Perp was tall. Five-ten, maybe six feet tall. He used a small gun, but nothing that's in our database. I'm thinking something custom." He stood up and moved in front of the pilot's body. "He was here when he shot the victim. But, he was pushed by somebody else before he was killed."

Rick stepped up the small stairs and stood in the entrance of the plane. "A second person was here. Based on the height of the door, and the way the victim fell out, I'd say the second person was five-five, five-six. But, that's not what's strange."

Sheriff Garber frowned. "Then, what's wrong?"

Rick hopped down the stairs again and rolled the pilot over. His intestines spilled out, and maggots wriggled about in the flesh. Sheriff Garber covered his nose and turned away, disgusted.

"Do you see anything wrong, Sheriff?" Rick asked.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Sheriff Garber barked. "You're the forensics guy. You tell me."

Rick motioned to the pilot's body, and Sheriff Garber noticed after a while that he wasn't bleeding. The wound had bled at one point, but seemed to have stopped halfway through, or something cleaned the blood around it. But, for such a gruesome injury, it was unnatural for it to be so spotless.

"He was shot, twice," Rick said. "Plus, something tore this body open, but there is no blood. Both wounds were inflicted before he died. The gunshots first, then the ripping of his stomach, but no blood? It was like someone cleaned the area around him. Even the steps."

Sheriff Garber hissed under his breath. "You think we're dealing with a professional?"

"I wouldn't know," Rick muttered. "I'd have to examine the plane, but your Deputies won't let me in until you clear it."

"God, fuck this shit," Sheriff Garber grumbled. He hitched his pants again and climbed the steps. "I don't have time for this nonsense.

The hustle and bustle of the outside dimmed almost instantly as he stepped inside the fuselage and was met with darkness. Even though the sun had fully risen, the plane was dark. When he touched the windows, his fingers were coated in a dark slime, like blood, but as he stuck his hand out to see, he found that it was actually a gelatinous shat. He frowned and gagged slightly, but wiped his hands on his pants and pulled out a flashlight.

The cockpit was slathered in the same gelatinous shat, and the smell began to get worse. Like whatever had made such a disgusting mess was still in there. Sheriff Garber glanced at the dashboard. He didn't see anything, but felt nauseous as he moved to the seats in the back. He avoided touching any of the materials, but he slipped in a pool of blood and crashed to the floor.

"Fuck!"

"Hey, are you okay, Sheriff?"

Sheriff Garber cursed under his breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute."

With his pants stained red, and his shirt covered in the excrements of some unknown creature, Sheriff Garber pulled himself to his feet and picked up his flashlight. He shone it to the back, where one of the Dusks was sitting. Sheriff Garber panicked and dropped his flashlight, but scrambled to pick it up, once again shining it to the back of the plane.

There was nothing there.

"I must be losing my fucking mind," he muttered. He looked under the seats to the best of his ability, for he grew winded rather quickly. Still, nothing.

But, after a brief period of silence, the fuselage filled with the sound of metallic clicks, and groaning hisses. Sheriff Garber spun around and looked for the source of the eerie cries of hunger. When he couldn't see anything, he became anxious and backed up.

A screeching hiss greeted him as he stepped on a soft body. He flashed the light by his foot and came face to face with a monster that would haunt his every waking moment for the rest of his natural life. One of the three Dusks that resided in the plane was struggling under Sheriff Garber's boot. Its leg was caught, and even though the man standing on it was heavy, there was no indication of bones breaking. Sheriff Garber gasped.

"What the fuck is that?"

The Dusk hissed and clicked, and Sheriff Garber fell back as a larger Dusk head butted him, knocking the wind from his chest and forcing him back to the floor. Sheriff Garber cried as the Dusk sprayed him with some kind of saliva as it squatted on his chest. The Dusk that had been pinned under the Sheriff's boot slithered away to another smaller Dusk and they curled together like siblings.

The larger Dusk clicked commands at them, and they rooted around Sheriff Garber's hands and arms, hissing softly, almost as if they were examining him. The larger Dusk swayed on his chest, and he didn't dare move. But, a strange sickness took over him, and he almost vomited. A gunshot startled the Dusks, and they fled, scratching and biting as they panicked. Sheriff Garber hurried to his feet, pulling his own gun out and shooting at the Dusks. They were fast though, and they seemed to be able to sense the bullets and dodge them. They danced around Sheriff Garber, and the Deputy that had come in.

"Shoot them!" Sheriff Garber screamed. His arms hurt, and they were bleeding, but his fear took over his entire body.

"What the fuck are these things?"

"Shoot them!"

The Dusks hissed madly and attacked the Deputy, tearing him open and eating whatever flesh they could as they continued to dodge bullets. Sheriff Garber soon ran out of ammunition, and scrambled to reload his gun, but he was shaking and couldn't focus. He dropped his magazine and the Dusks flopped out of the plane.

The officers on the outside screamed and shot at the Dusks, missing by miles in their fear. As the Dusks moved towards the trees surrounding the airport, one fell. The other two danced around it and clicked in anger. The larger Dusk stopped moving and looked back to the group of officers, practically daring them to come closer. The officers didn't move and after a few minutes, the wounded Dusk slithered into the trees, the other two following closely behind.

"Did you get them?" Sheriff Garber choked out as he stumbled down the small stairs. He looked a mess, hair matted by the Dusks' shat, clothes stained by blood.

"Whatever they were," answered one of the officers shakily. "We got one, but the others helped it get away."

"What the fuck are those things?" Rick asked. He frowned. "I guess we know what did that to the pilot now. And that certainly wasn't human."

Sheriff Garber choked again and vomited. Rick helped him up and called an ambulance. As the paramedics patched him up, and cleaned him, Sheriff Garber refused to close his eyes. Not even to blink. Today certainly wasn't going as planned. And after seeing the Dusks, he would never be able to close his eyes again.

"You should probably go home," Rick said.

Sheriff Garber coughed. "I probably should. I'm not feeling too well. I need sleep."

"And your wife would love to see you." Rick attempted a smile, but it failed. "Go home, alright?"

Sheriff Garber nodded, got in his car, and drove home, choosing to turn off Keith Urban for the first time in his life.

* * *

The doctors in Miami were extraordinary in their care. Isa had been fully pieced together with metal pins holding his shattered leg in place, and he was lying in a bed in Jackson Memorial Hospital, hooked to a machine that was constantly administering Morphine into his blood stream. At first, he had been resistant to taking the drugs, since he knew just how easily one could get hooked to them.

But Aqua had left him. He was going to die, and Aqua hadn't even_ looked _in his direction. If it hadn't been for that fucker, Riku, he would have bled out in that airport hangar. And this is what made him accept the doctors' medications.

"How are we doing, Mr. Eiseman?" a nurse asked softly.

Isa smiled and nodded. "I'm feeling just fine. A little light headed."

The nurse smiled. "You have to go easy on the Morphine, hon. Take your finger off the button. You're only supposed to push it when you feel pain."

Isa grinned wider, refusing to move his finger. "Okay."

"And you have a visitor," the nurse said. "Should I send him in?"

"Sure," Isa giggled.

Hayner peered around the doorway and rushed to Isa's side, looking concerned. "Isa! You okay?"

Isa nodded. "Never better, faggot. I'm just fucking great."

Hayner hushed him. He wanted to hug Isa, but he knew better than to show his affections. He merely patted his shoulder and took the small Morphine trigger from his slackened hand.

"What happened?"

Isa frowned briefly. "Can you believe she fired me? That bitch. I gave her everything, and she just left me."

Hayner frowned. "You mean Aqua? Why would she do that? She loves your company."

"Because I fucked her, Hayner," Isa said. "I crossed that line so that I could help her stay awake. You should have seen the look on her face when she came. It was like I had given her God's greatest gift. And you know what? She spat it back in my face."

Hayner blushed, burning with a small flame of jealousy. "Well, you don't need her. We can handle ourselves, right?"

Isa scoffed. "I need to find her. She can't just leave me. They still want her dead."

"No!" Hayner grabbed Isa's hand and let it go almost instantly. He smoothed his hair back and shook his head. "I mean, if you went to her, she would just have you killed. Come back to Philadelphia with me. Let her cool off, or something. We should just leave her alone."

Isa shook his head. "No, I need to make it up to her. That's my job."

Hayner held back tears as he grabbed Isa's hand again. "No! You said that you wouldn't stay longer than you had to. The Heartless are gone. You promised!"

Isa wrinkled his nose. "Stop being a baby, Hayner."

"You promised me," Hayner sobbed. He climbed onto the bed and straddled Isa protectively. "Please."

Isa struggled under Hayner, feeling a shooting pain pulse through his leg. "Get off! You're hurting me."

Hayner hugged Isa. "Please. Just come back with me. Please…"

Isa relaxed as Hayner pushed the button, releasing another dose of Morphine. Isa smiled and hugged Hayner back, whispering a barely audible thank you in his ear. "Okay. We can go back to Philly. But, _you_ have to promise _me_ something."

Hayner wiped his tears away. "What?"

Isa smiled. "Let's go to Ohio first."

Hayner smiled back. "Why?"

Isa fell back into his pillows. "You said you wanted me to meet your parents one day, right? Maybe when I get out…we could see each other. Bet they'd love that."

Hayner laughed. "You promise?"

Isa nodded. "I promise. But, you need to go first. I don't know if anyone saw me at the airport. And besides, my leg is not going to make it on a plane. I'll meet you there."

Hayner nodded and climbed off the bed. His sadness almost instantly evaporated, and the normal twinkle in his eye returned. He blushed and took Isa's hand again, holding it to his chest.

"I love you."

Isa frowned. "Don't. You'll only hurt yourself."

Hayner kissed him gently before pulling away. He held up two fingers. Isa did the same.

"I promise to see you in Ohio," Hayner said instructively.

"I promise to see you in Ohio," Isa repeated.

Hayner laughed and back out of the room, preparing himself to pack for his trip back home. Little did he know, Isa crossed his fingers and let his hand fall as he pressed the button again, dulling that pain that was in the back of his chest.

The pain of a broken heart.

11:52 AM

The plane had just landed. Riku was nervous and fidgety. Aqua had left on sour terms, and he wanted to make it up to her. All he had to do was talk to her; make her understand what was going on. But, he had no idea where she was.

He had called Sora and Don as soon as he had landed at the Trenton-Mercer Airport. He had missed them, though, and he grew frustrated as he stepped back onto the plane and headed to New York. He was getting annoyed at always having to wait for hours before he could _do _anything. And he was beginning to feel useless.

But, he was ecstatic when he saw Sora. It had been a long time since he had seen his best friend face to face. He had even hugged him, but regained his composure. Sora was smiling, though Riku could see he was slightly troubled by something.

"How is everyone?" Riku asked as Don drove them from the airport. He sat in the back seat with Sora, relaxing. He hoped that Sora would make his anxiety disappear.

Sora smiled. "Everyone's fine. Kairi will love to see you. She misses you, but she's with Goofy right now. They're going to find Demyx."

"I thought you had him already," Riku said quickly. "Before I left you guys. He was there."

"He escaped," Don grunted. "We underestimated his ability. I promise that will never happen again."

Riku nodded. He really wanted to go to sleep and wake up twenty years from now. He wanted everything to just wait so he had enough time to pull himself together. He looked at Sora, who was frowned, his face scrunching in pain. Riku sat up more.

"Sora? What's wrong?"

Sora frowned. "Don, stop the car."

_Shift…_

She must have been fourteen years old. Freshmen in high school, and she was walking alone. Her hair was an elegant black that display its innocence like a beacon, and she was smiling. Her backpack sat at her waist as she hurried home.

"Angelina!"

She stopped. "Lawrence! I told you I don't need you to walk me home." Angelina frowned and pointed in the opposite direction. "You live that way."

Lawrence smiled. "Yeah, but it would be incredibly rude for me to just let you walk by yourself. Especially…" He glanced back. A group of older teens were following a little too close for comfort. "When you are just one little girl. You have no one to protect you."

Angelina smiled. "Thanks, _Big Brother. _Whatever would I do without you?"

Lawrence laughed. "I have no idea."

Angelina continued forward, Lawrence following closely, and when she was safe inside her rundown house, he turned on the spot. The older teens had followed them until the last block, where they stood, waiting. Lawrence rushed back to them, taking off his school blazer and rolling up his sleeves. He pulled his tie loose and pushed the leader.

"Listen," Lawrence spat. "You leave her alone, you hear me?"

"What are you going to do?" Said one of the boys. "We only want to look at her. She's so fucking fine. I'd fuck her now. Who gives a shit?"

Lawrence punched the teen in the face, and was instantly ganged up on by the others. They beat him mercilessly, but he refused to give up, protecting Angelina's honor. He wasn't expecting anyone to help him, but another boy joined the fight, wielding a lighter with an aerosol can. He grinned and pressed the top of the can, making a makeshift flamethrower. The boys ran away, and the stranger helped Lawrence up.

"Thanks," Lawrence mumbled. "I needed that."

The stranger smiled, answering in a thick Italian accent. "No problem. Name's Luca. I'm new."

"And already starting trouble, huh?" Lawrence asked. "Well, you're alright. I'm Lawrence. Lawrence Eiseman."

"Luca Cardano."

Luca had a mop of brown hair and green eyes that didn't hide his overactive imagination and deceit. He looked like a troublemaker, but his charming smile quelled any doubts that instantly rose.

Lawrence wrapped his arm around Luca's shoulder. "Come on. I know this great ice cream place. It's just around the corner."

_Shift…_

Angelina, Lawrence, and Luca often spent their weekends together eating ice cream from the place around the corner. A year had passed, and they had become a sort of clique, defending each other like a close-knit family. Luca still had his thick Italian accent, but he had styled his hair into a spiky coiffe that was becoming fashionable in his home country. It was still brown, and there was evidence that he had tried to dye it.

"So, what are you going to do about your classes, Lawrence?" Angelina asked.

Lawrence frowned. "I don't know. I was thinking about it for a while, but I'm still not sure. What do you think, Luca?"

Luca shrugged. "All I know is that I have plenty of time to think about stuff like that. I just want to set things on fire."

"You should be careful," Angelina warned. "You could get hurt."

Luca smiled and waved her off. "You don't know what you're talking about. I know what I want to do, just not yet."

Lawrence smiled again. "Yeah, we have plenty of time to think about our future. Plenty of time."

_Shift…_

It was late. Night had fallen early one winter, and Angelina had just barely been able to make it to Lawrence's house. She was going to spend the night with him and Luca, but she had been attacked by the same older teens that had been following her home for years. She was bruised, and she was bleeding.

Lawrence opened his front door, and the carefree smile that had been there disappeared as he and Luca rushed to help Angelina.

"Why didn't you call me?" Lawrence cried. "I would have come to get you."

"I thought I could take care of myself," Angelina whispered. "I guess not."

"Who did this to you?" Luca asked.

Angelina frowned, but didn't say anything.

"I bet it was those fuckers who've been following her," Lawrence said. "Don't worry, Angelina. We'll take care of them."

Luca nodded and jumped off the porch after grabbing his coat. "I'll show them."

"Luca!"

But Luca had already gone.

_Shift…_

Angelina sat on her porch, sobbing as softly as she could. Lawrence kept an arm around her, trying to not let his sadness show. Luca stood in front of them, trying to smile as best as he could.

"Hey, don't worry about it," he said. "We'll meet again, I'm sure. It's just…my parents are moving somewhere else. Too many bad memories here. I'll visit if I can. I promise."

"You shouldn't have done that," Angelina cried. "You wouldn't have to leave if you had just left them alone."

"I don't let my friends get hurt," Luca said confidently. "Got it memorized?"

"You need to work on your grammar," Angelina said, half chuckling. "You still aren't saying it right."

"Whatever," Luca said, shrugging. "I guess I'll see you in the future. Ciao."

Luca turned and got into his parents' car, waving and smiling. He tried to not cry as he left them behind, but one tear betrayed his carefree attitude. He knew he would never see them again.

_Shift…_

Luca Cardano had forgotten his past promises easily. He passed through his teenage years without reminiscing about his past adventures, choosing instead to delve deeper into his obsession with fire. He had taken English classes, and developed a more "American" accent so he didn't stick out so easily.

He had stolen a homeless man's identity after a run in with the cops. He had managed to fasten himself a well put together, hasty lie, claiming that he was actually Lea Conrad, and this allowed him to narrowly escape jail.

He had dyed his hair a bright red, and tattooed his face, so by the time he made it to the University, he was completely unrecognizable from Luca Cardano. As far as Lea was concerned, Luca died a long time ago.

But, he met up with Lawrence again, and became friends, instantly recognizing the same fierce overprotection of Angelina. Only, over the years, it had become a full blown obsession. Lea remembered Angelina as well and courted her for a short time, being able to coax her into bed with him a few times without Lawrence finding out.

"I don't know why you're so scared," Angelina whispered after another night with Lea. "Lawrence won't do anything to you."

Lea frowned and lit a cigarette. "I just have issues with people knowing stuff about me all the time."

Angelina nodded and curled up next to him, humming softly. "Maybe you should let loose once in a while. It'll do you good."

"Not a chance, Angelina," Lea whispered back. "Not. A. Chance."

_Shift…_

"Oh…Lawrence…"

Angelina was lying in bed with Lawrence, but they had each changed drastically. Lawrence no longer had black hair, but a crazy shade of blue instead. And his face had grown beaten and worried all the time. He seemed to have regained some of that youthfulness, but he still seemed out of it. And Angelina was still pristine, maintaining that feigned innocence, but she was harder. Stronger. More commanding. And she moved in rhythm with Lawrence, moaning his name, and whispering her desires in his ears.

Lawrence huffed and pulled her over into a state of complete unity, where he offered his affections in exchange for acknowledgement. And they both connected to each other in ways that could not be fully explained without opening books upon books of personal history.

They were one.

And not even a whole hour afterwards, was Angelina leaving Lawrence in pursuit of her own selfish desires…

Angelina was in New York. The building looked familiar, Central Park was visible in the distance, and fashionistas and struggling artists strutted down the street below. It was Greenwich Village for sure, but there was a darkened air about it.

Something had changed.

_Shift…_

"Sora?" Riku shook Sora gently.

Sora had fallen out of the car as soon as he opened the door, and struggled to hold himself together as the flashes of Angelina Godfrey flowed through his mind. And not only did the flashes of this woman attack him, but he was drowned in a pit of anguish over missing her, loving her, and losing her.

"Angelina…"

Riku frowned. "What are you talking about?" He gasped. "Visions?"

"The woman with the blue highlights…" Sora sputtered. "She's in danger, I think. Or…something. I can't make it out."

Riku frowned. "Where is she?"

"I-I…think I might love her…" Sora muttered. "She means everything to me…"

Riku shook Sora. "Where is she?"

Sora trembled. "I…would do anything for her…" He looked scared and Riku cursed himself for not being able to help him. The only thing he could do was sit there and wait for Sora to become coherent again. "My Sleeping Beauty."

Riku breathed shallowly. "Sora. Where is she?"

Sora swallowed. "Greenwich Village. At an apartment. You need to help her."

Riku rubbed Sora's back. "What's wrong with you?"

Sora stood with Riku's help. "I think I might…be peeking into your thoughts. I'm not sure. I just know that _you _need to help her. I can't. I don't love her."

Riku nodded. "But, you need me."

Don stepped out of the car. Sora shook and collapsed. Don picked him up, growling under his breath.

"She needs you more," he said roughly. "Go. Meet with us tonight at Mick's place. I'll tell him."

Riku smiled, but frowned shortly afterwards. "I feel like I'm always leaving you alone. I'm not even doing what Mick tells me. I feel so useless."

Don thumped him on the back. "You have your reasons. Mick understands a lot better than I think you give him credit for. He will not be angry. The Heartless are gone. You have fulfilled your mission."

Riku nodded and backed away. "I'm sorry. Tell Sora I'm sorry."

Don nodded and put Sora back in the car. "I think he already knows."

"I—"

"Don't worry about him," Don said quickly. "He's not the same child you picked up a long time ago. He's different."

Riku paused. "I guess he is."

1:30 PM

Aqua had turned her back on everything. She had worked so hard to keep her empire from falling, and she just handed over, all because she had feelings for someone. Emotions that had clouded her judgment. And now she had to pay for it.

She only had twenty-four hours.

So, she locked the door to her Greenwich Village loft, turned off her phone, and began planning. The walls were covered in maps, the floor littered with ripped papers and broken markers. She sat in her bathtub, mumbling under her breath and dipping her head under water, trying to figure out what it was she really wanted.

And she stayed like that until her doorbell rang.

Aqua frowned and hoisted herself out of the water, hastily wrapping a towel around her shoulders. She rushed to her intercom and pressed the button.

"Who is it?"

"Aqua! It's Riku."

"Go away, Riku," Aqua growled. "I left you in Miami for a reason. That was not an invitation for you to follow me."

"Please let me in," Riku said. "We need to talk. It's important."

"Go home."

"Angelina," Riku whispered. "Please…"

Aqua frowned deeper. "Give me a minute."

Five minutes later, Riku was standing in Aqua's apartment, flushed and out of breath. Aqua stared at him intently.

"You have thirty seconds."

Riku frowned and took a step forward. "Why did you leave us?"

Aqua smiled briefly. "I had business I had to attend to."

"But Isa could have died."

"He was in exile," Aqua answered quickly. "It wouldn't have mattered. And I don't understand why you care. He hates you."

"You're not the same."

"People change, Riku." Aqua glanced at the clock on her wall. "Time's running out."

"What happened to you in Miami?"

Aqua spun around. "It's none of your business. Is this really that important? Your thirty seconds is up, Riku."

Riku trembled. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the courage or the words to say it. It was like Aqua had stolen his voice.

"Leave," Aqua commanded. She stood in front of a table and picked up a pen. There were different maps strewn across the table, and she marked them carefully.

Riku stepped forward hesitantly. "Angelina…"

Aqua whipped around, teeth bared. "Don't you dare come in here thinking that you're Isa. You can't say whatever the fuck you want." She pointed to the door. "Now get the fuck out of my house."

Riku didn't move. Aqua turned back to her table, picked up a gun, and pointed it at Riku. She seemed crazy, emotional in the worst kind of way, and she stared into Riku's eyes with all the anger she could.

"If you don't get the fuck out of my house right now, I'm going to kill you." Aqua cocked the pistol. "I mean it."

Riku held up his hands. "I'm not sure what's wrong. What ever happened between you and your Captain is your business. I just…"

"Riku! Get out!"

Riku frowned. Aqua seemed very upset for some reason, and he was determined to calm her down. Sora had said she was in danger, and Riku had every intention of helping her, but she seemed more distant. Almost unreachable.

"You're not going to shoot me," Riku said as confidently as he could.

Aqua squeezed the trigger, and a bullet buried itself right by Riku's foot. Riku jumped in place, losing that confidence instantly. Aqua roared at the top of her lungs, becoming a dragon in human skin. She was possessive, violent, enraged.

"Don't you underestimate me, runner!" Aqua cocked her gun again. "Now get out!"

Riku took a step forward. He knew that not listening to her could get him killed, but he was so sure that he had to save Aqua from herself. The way Sora had expressed the feelings he could never muster the courage to show himself made him determined. He kept his hands up as he approached the dragon of a woman he loved and pushed her arm down. Aqua didn't resist him, instead choosing to allow Riku to hug her tightly, and force the gun back onto the table.

"I fucked up!" Aqua sobbed. She fell into Riku's arms and trembled with the same fear that a dying man would feel. "I fucked up so bad."

"It's okay," Riku whispered. "You're okay."

"No I'm not." Aqua pushed away from Riku and leaned over the maps on her table. "I've lost everything, Riku. Everything."

Riku paused, hesitant about what he could possibly say to comfort her.

"I fucked up when I went to Miami." Aqua sniffed and cried openly. "I should have handled it myself. But…I wanted to help you. And you just have no idea."

Riku swallowed. "What happened, Aqua? Please…"

Aqua wiped her tears away. "I gave up my collateral."

"Collateral?"

Aqua nodded. "You know how a deal is made, right?" She rolled up some of the maps on her table and leaned them in the corner of a window. "You want something someone else has. You offer your collateral so, if something goes wrong, you can still get something in return. But…I didn't have anything."

Riku frowned.

"I was eighteen when I made my first deal," Aqua said. "I needed to climb the ranks so I could take New York. Philadelphia just wasn't my place. And I had nothing to give." Aqua hung her head and dropped her shoulders as she moved around her living room. "So, I made a deal with a man who was willing to invest in 'young talent'."

Riku followed her, though he could distinctly hear the change in her attitude. She was transforming into another kind of creature. One that was no longer violent, but just as possessive. It was the same tone in her voice as the first time he had been standing in her loft.

"I only had to fulfill the terms of the contract. That's it." Aqua sat down and tucked her legs underneath her. "I only had to repay my debts, turn over a third of my profits, and leave the past in the past."

"Aqua…"

Aqua frowned. "Don't disturb me, Riku. This is important. You need to change your game if you're going to survive."

Riku swallowed again.

"I contacted my former Captain." Aqua laughed. It was bitter and confused. She was trying to figure out her plan of action even though she had already lost. "That was a direct breach of contract. And now, I have to give up my collateral."

"And, what's that?"

Aqua smiled and patted the seat next to her. "Sit, Riku."

Riku obeyed. He had expected to feel an intense fear rise in his chest as he settled next to God, but he felt nervous. And excited.

"I have to give up myself," Aqua whispered. "It's Fair."

Riku trembled. "I can help you. You just need to give me some time."

Aqua laughed again. "That's impossible, Riku. You don't have what it takes."

Riku stood up. He spun around. "How do you know? I can do whatever I have to to get things done."

Aqua stood up as well, her presence become hostile again. She pushed Riku forward and growled. "I know you don't have what it takes. I can see it."

"You don't know shit!"

Aqua picked up the gun off her table and handed it to Riku. "You think you can do what I do? Prove it."

Riku took the gun and stared at it. This wasn't the first time he had carried such a dangerous weapon, but the way Aqua spoke was making him nervous. For some reason, it scared him.

"There's an eleven year old boy who lives down the hall," Aqua said quickly. "His name is Stephen. Tomorrow, the police are going to question him about a possible drug ring going on in the building across the street."

Riku paled.

"He needs to die," Aqua spat. "Today. You think you can do what I do, then kill him. Right now."

Riku shook and seized up. Was Aqua crazy? Was she serious?

"You don't have what it takes to go and knock on his door," Aqua said, calming slightly. "You don't have what it takes to tell him that his parents sent you, and that they just want him to be safe. You don't have what it takes to ask him about what he knows in such a caring way, then shoot him in the fucking face to protect your lifestyle. You. Do. Not. Have. What. It. Takes."

Riku gave then gun back to Aqua, who placed it on the table.

"And," Aqua turned back to him. "I'm thinking that neither do I anymore. But I have no choice."

"You always have a choice," Riku muttered.

"No, Riku," Aqua corrected. "You don't. I don't. Not anymore."

Riku took a step forward. "Yes, you do. I can help you. I can get you out of this."

Aqua smiled softly. "You're too good to me. I don't deserve you. You should leave, before you don't have a choice."

Riku hugged Aqua quickly, resisting the urge to cry. He couldn't just abandon her. "I'll stay. I'm not afraid."

"Riku," Aqua hummed. "Think about it. I'm ten years older than you. Think about all the things I know, the experience I have. The things I've done."

Riku shuttered. "I…"

"Go home," Aqua whispered.

She pushed Riku away and sat on her couch again, shutting herself off from him and ignoring his desperate attempts at saving her. Riku let his arms fall by his sides. He had no intentions of leaving her by herself.

"Aqua…"

Aqua frowned. "Go home, Riku. We're done here."

Riku looked at her. He reached his hand in his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. He stared at the money, swallowed slowly, and tossed it at Aqua.

"What's that?"

"I'm going to get you out," Riku said. "I'll pay whatever I have to."

Aqua giggled softly. "That's yours. You keep it. I'm not interested in your money. I have plenty."

"It'll free you."

Aqua laughed harder. "You are such a child, babe. It'll take a hell of a lot more than that." She stood up and scooped the money together, handing it back to Riku in a neatly folded roll. "You're a good person, Riku. I don't want to taint you more. Consider yourself free. Please, just go back to your family. Be a kid for as long as you can. Don't tie yourself to me."

"But, I want to," Riku replied. He hugged her again. "I can make this work."

He pulled out a small box and opened it behind Aqua's back. It was beautiful, shining even in the warm light of the afternoon. His lower lip quivered.

"Marry me," he whispered.

Aqua laughed and held Riku at arm's length. She seemed much more relaxed and at ease, obviously flattered by Riku's request. They stared at each other for a long time. Aqua mulled it over in her mind, and kissed Riku.

"I—"

But Riku didn't wait for her to answer. He kissed her back, becoming quickly excited and assertive. He pressed himself against her and squeezed her.

"Riku—" Aqua gasped. "Don't do this."

Her commands were half-assed, for she was just as excited and eager. She turned Riku around on the spot and sat in his lap as she forced him onto her couch. She didn't let him go for one second as she kissed him along his neck.

"I mean it," Riku breathed. "Marry me. I'll take care of you."

Aqua paused briefly. "I'll think about it."

Riku smiled, feeling his head lighten as nature and his selfish desires took control. He was disappointed when Aqua dismounted and swept away. She looked back, smiling gently. Riku growled under his breath at being rejected, and flushed in embarrassment as he tried to pat his erection down.

"Fuck," he whispered.

"You're welcome to follow me, if you like," Aqua called. Riku stood up, still blushing in embarrassment. Aqua spun in place and turned the corner.

Riku was hesitant at first. He had never been any farther into Aqua's apartment than the front room. But, she was saying just the right thing, giving him just the right look, and expressing her permission.

As they connected to each other again, Aqua was sitting on top of him. They had not yet undressed, but Riku was growing more and more eager with every touch. Aqua was taking control of him and he loved every second he had with her. But, then she did something unexpected.

She pulled Riku's shirt off and massaged his chest slowly. Riku's heart drummed in his ribcage, and he quickly stripped Aqua to nothing but her panties. She was gorgeous, but tiny scars and evidence of abuse marred her once perfect skin. She paused, straightening to her full height.

"I'm going to give you something I haven't given to anyone for a long time."

Riku's skin tingled and dusted over with a red blush. Aqua rolled over onto her back and pulled Riku on top of her.

"I'm yours," she whispered.

2:30 PM

Zexion opened the door to Oblivion Labs. He was exhausted, and wanted so badly to flop on the couch in the lounge and go to sleep, but his imagination would not relent in its torture. He could not get Kairi out of his mind, and now that he was in New York again, he was sure that she would be much more easily accessible. He groaned as his body reacted to his fantasies.

"Jesus fucking Christ," He muttered.

"Zexion?"

Zexion turned around as Larxene stepped out of the elevator. She seemed to have lost that arrogant sadistic confidence she once had in favor of jealousy and anger.

"I thought I was alone," Zexion said, frowning. He paused for a long time. "I'm glad you're here."

He, at once, noticed her hair. It was short, and his insides squirmed as he attributed it to the same hair cut Kairi had the last time he saw her. His heart beat in his chest and he swallowed, but he did not let his calm face betray the swirling ocean of misery that was growing in his soul.

"Me, too," Larxene said. "I've been meaning to have some alone time with you."

Zexion nodded and allowed Larxene to pull him into her room. Just like their every other sexual escapade, Larxene danced in front of him, sometimes puncturing his most sensitive pressure points with thin needles. Zexion welcomed the pleasurable sensations that ran through his body, but his mind was beginning to block them out.

"Shit," Zexion muttered under his breath.

"What's wrong, babe?" Larxene asked. "Am I not pleasing you?"

Zexion furrowed his brow. "I need you…to strip."

Larxene blushed. "You're breaking routine? That's hot."

Zexion growled. "Just do it."

Larxene obliged, staying as sexy as she possibly could as she slid out of her robes. She felt unsure of herself as she reached up to play with her hair and found that it didn't move quite right. But, Zexion was initiating sexual play, and she wasn't about to argue with the love of her life. As far as she was concerned, Zexion was expressing his affection for her in the only way he knew how.

As soon as she was naked, Zexion striped quickly and grabbed her, whispering commands in her ear. She moaned with longing, moving with Zexion as she tried her best to cater to his every whim. Little did she know, Zexion was thinking about one thing and only thing only.

Kairi.

He just couldn't get that face out of his head. Those perfect green eyes, that gorgeous red hair, those endearing pale freckles. He kept wanting to moan her name, but he knew better than to let Larxene know that he wasn't thinking about her.

"Zexion?" Larxene squealed.

"Shut up," Zexion grunted.

"Zexion, this is important."

Zexion didn't stop. He was almost there. Almost to that edge of sexual satisfaction that would allow him to think clearly for a few days. He ignored Larxene's protests and kept his rhythm, thrusting into his fantasies like a desperate man. He closed his eyes and pictured a pale body underneath him. A beautiful head of red hair that was begging him to continue. Gently egging him on in a sultry voice and gasping softly in time with his thrusts.

It was too much.

"Zexion, please?" Larxene moaned. "It's becoming uncomfortable."

"Shut the fuck up, Larxene," Zexion growled.

"Zexion!"

Zexion slowed down as his body became numb, and he came with a low hiss. In his fantasy, Kairi had opened her mouth, revealing her slightly imperfect teeth and hissed with him, adding a warm texture to an otherwise chilling sound.

"Kairi…"

Larxene locked up, and that satisfaction was taken from Zexion in an instant.

"Who's Kairi?"

Zexion frowned. "Shit."

"Were you fantasizing about someone else?" Larxene barked. "While you were fucking me?"

Zexion cursed himself and jumped out of Larxene's bed. "Of course I was." He stepped into her bathroom and cleaned himself in her sink.

Larxene sat on the bed, frowning, almost on the verge of tears. "How could you?"

Zexion dressed, zipping up his pants and picking up his robes. "Easily. You are the only girl in the Organization. I knew you would be like some kind of call girl. I took advantage of the fact that you sometimes lack confidence about your self image as is common with most women your age."

As Zexion explained himself, Larxene's face transformed. It went from a sadistic happiness, to an ugly sadness, then melted into hatred.

Zexion frowned. "You were meant to keep my sexual urges to a minimum so I could focus on my missions. And, as your superior, I give you top marks for that. But, I don't need you anymore. You are useless, because I still feel the same. The only thing I accomplished was ejaculation. Nothing more."

Larxene couldn't believe what she was hearing. The man she loved more than anything else had just turned his back on her. And he dumped salt all over her wounds. It was like she had died. What little humanity she did have, disappeared as she bit her lower lip to stem the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Zexion zipped up his robes and departed. He stretched as he paced down the hall. He had work to do, and was quickly becoming obsessed with Kairi. More than he had ever been before. He knew he would be able to find her. He just needed the right tools. As he opened the door to his room, Larxene pushed him back, wielding a silver scalpel.

"You're a motherfucker!"

Zexion shielded his face as Larxene hacked at him. The leather that was protecting his arms gave way easily, and his skin split open. He screamed and fell to the floor. He grabbed his arms, trying to keep pressure on his wounds until he could get Larxene away from him.

Marluxia opened his door and peered out, hissing at the disturbance of his quiet time. Larxene froze.

"Attacking a superior?" Marluxia hummed. "I'm confused. Very confused. An act of treachery? Is Twelve a traitor?"

Zexion resisted the urge to nod his head. He knew that letting Marluxia attack one of his own would open a door to chaos that wouldn't be able to close again.

"Marluxia, Larxene is of no threat," Zexion said. He stood. "She is merely expressing anger at the failure of a mission, and will be punished by Superior as soon as possible. Please escort her to her room."

Marluxia giggled and opened his door wider.

"There's no need," Larxene spat. She glared at Zexion. "I hope you burn in Hell, you obnoxious self-absorbed dick."

She turned on her heels and ran into her room, slamming it and locking it from the inside. Zexion looked at Marluxia. Marluxia stared back with a sinful glee in his eyes.

"I will kill her, yes?"

"No," Zexion muttered. "Call Xehanort. Ask him what to do. I have work I need to attend to."

Marluxia frowned and closed his door. He flipped his phone open and called Xehanort. As he paced around his room, a certain impatient excitement rose in him. Only one more day. One more day, and he would be making a child with Xion, ripping open the present Axel had bestowed upon him, and cutting Roxas to pieces.

"Marluxia?" Xehanort asked. "Why are you calling me?"

Marluxia whined. "The Smart One told me to. Larxene attacked him, and I must know what to do. Do I kill her?"

Xehanort sighed heavily. "Why is everyone falling apart? We are so close. We must calm ourselves before we lose sight of our purpose." He paused. "Marluxia? Would you like to have a drink with me when I return?"

"Nothing would make me happier," Marluxia said, giggling. "But, with all due respect, you know damn well I can not partake in boozing. Zoloft, sir."

"Then why don't you simply stop taking it?"

Marluxia frowned and shifted nervously. "I get crazy when I don't. I wouldn't want to disobey you, Superior."

Xehanort laughed. "Nonsense, my good friend. Go talk to Vexen. He will give you something that will flush your system completely. Then you could go to your favorite restaurant. And _eat_ there for a change instead of simply staring at it. Does that sound good?"

Marluxia smiled. "Of course. I would love to."

"I will meet you there providing I do not run into any obstacles."

"Oh, goodie!" Marluxia cried.

Xehanort laughed again. "I will see you there, my friend." And he hung up the phone.

Marluxia giggled madly as he rushed from his room to Vexen's lab. Zexion was there, getting his cuts wrapped, whispering to Vexen and glaring at the tank across the room. Marluxia smiled and sauntered in, spreading his arms wide.

"Superior has given me the greatest of gifts," He smiled toothily. "He is freeing me from Dr. Fender's curse. I will be allowed to be myself once more."

Vexen laughed as he taped the bandages to Zexion's skin. "Well, I suppose we should protect ourselves then, shouldn't we?"

"Are you making fun of me?" Marluxia growled. "I do not appreciate it. Not one bit."

"Now, Eleven," Vexen said quickly. "You know I am only kidding with you. I'm certain Superior knows what he is doing. Don't fret." Vexen motioned to an empty chair. "Sit down. I'll be with you in a minute."

Marluxia frowned as he sat, but a smile instantly leaped on his lips as he envisioned his freedom. The people he would slay, the mayhem he would cause. The revenge he would seek.

Zexion groaned softly as Vexen removed his robe. He felt cool gel bite his skin as Vexen slathered on a sticky paste.

"Listen, Zexion," Vexen said. "You really need to calm down. You have a severe rash beginning to surface. This lotion should help, but you need to relax."

Zexion scowled at him as best as he could from his slouched position. "I'm fine. Really."

"Really, you're not," Vexen replied. "From what I can deduce, you have a stress induced illness. I can only tell you to relax, since I think giving you anti-depressants would hinder your ability to rationalize. Whatever is on your mind, it would be wise to take care of it. Before you get worse."

"I need to get to work," Zexion muttered.

"Six," Vexen whispered formally. "I beg you. Please take time to care for yourself. Superior would understand. Do it for me. I care about you, my friend."

Zexion stood and pulled his shirt on. It instantly attached to his back, but he felt a soothing warmth relax his muscles. He sighed and exited Vexen's lab after glancing at Dusk's charts. He frowned deeper at the stunt in its growth, but decided that he would be better off doing exactly what Vexen told him.

Maybe he _would_ take care of himself for once.

After changing into inconspicuous clothing, Zexion skirted out the front door of the Labs and down the street. Foot traffic was heavy, and he kept bumping into people. No one paid him any mind and he was just fine with that, but as he traveled farther and farther into the city, he began to feel sick to his stomach, like the separation from his fantasies and reality was kicking him in the throat. Beads of sweat formed along his brow and his blood stalled. He felt unreal.

And he doubled over, gasping for breath, begging for his mind to stop tormenting him. He closed his eyes, and Kairi instantly jumped out at him, smiling serenely. A distant dream, unreachable by his desperate pleas. He was losing his mind as he hurriedly tried to push her from his thoughts, but only succeeded in upsetting his stomach more. He groaned audibly and vomited on the sidewalk.

People hissed in disapproval and moved around him in disgust. Zexion wiped his mouth and frowned, shaking.

"I've got to be losing my mind," he said to himself. He stood up and rushed into the nearest restaurant—a McDonald's—to wash his hands and splash his face.

While in the bathroom, he glared at himself in the mirror, noticing his appearance for the first time in a long time. He was pale; to the point where he was surprised nobody had asked him if he was okay. The dark circles under his eyes had sunken in, and he could see the thin bluish tinge of blood running under the surface of his skin. His hair had become dusty, like an old man's and his lips were drawn into a taunt, permanent frown.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Zexion turned. Sora stood next to him, washing his hands. Zexion swallowed slowly. He couldn't believe what was happening.

"Uh, yeah," Zexion blinked. "I'm just tired."

"My friend says that when people look like their having a bad day, you should ask them if everything's okay." Sora smiled. "You look like you needed it."

"Uh, thanks…?" Zexion muttered.

"Sora."

"Thanks, Sora."

Sora nodded and dried his hands. Zexion washed his hands and quickly followed him out of the restaurant, once again being swallowed by New York's massive population. Sora was only a few feet ahead, walking with Don. The friendly teenager had been replaced by a concerned agent, and Zexion was slightly alarmed by the transformation.

"What are we going to do now?" Sora asked. "I mean, Demyx is out there. As soon as the other Organization members find out about Lexaeus, they'll be looking for us if they haven't already started, and we are no closer to their whereabouts then when we first started."

"Calm down, Sora," Don grunted. "We'll get there. I'm awaiting orders from Mick. Until then, we have to focus. Do you understand?"

Sora frowned. "Yes, but I feel so useless." He hung his head briefly, then looked at Don again. "What if the Keyblade does what it did to Lexaeus again? What then?"

Zexion seized up, but managed to keep his feet moving forward. Sora had killed Lexaeus, and he was absolutely powerless to do anything about it. He had no physical strength, he had no weapons, no premeditated traps, nothing. What was he going to do? Mind fuck them?

He shook his head and curled his hands into fists. He wanted so badly to kill them with his own hands. Grab a knife and stab them, shoot them in the face with the biggest gun he could find.

_This isn't rational. Focus. You cannot resort to uncontrolled violence to solve you problems. You must plan first._

Zexion breathed shallowly as he bumped into Sora from behind. But, he didn't stop to let Sora see that he had been stalking him. He pushed past him, cursing rudely like any other normal person. Sora flipped his phone open and answered it, his face falling as soon as he heard the somber tone in Goofy's voice.

"Kairi's gone?" Sora frowned. "What do you mean she's gone?"

Zexion ducked into an alleyway, struggling to listen to the conversation. But, that already didn't matter. He had heard all that he had needed to. Kairi was gone, and now he had to find her. Before they did. So that maybe he could redeem himself.

Maybe.

3:56 PM

Sheriff Garber rolled off the couch in his front room, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth and snorting. He spit in the trash can that had been placed next to him, and promptly heaved most of his lunch, and whatever was left from any snacking into the bin. His wife, Rachel, hurried out of the kitchen, carrying a box of tissues.

She was skinny. Nightmarishly so, and her teeth stuck out like a sick horse's. Her brown eyes were sharp and nosy, a small town woman in search of her next big gossip story. She pulled a few tissues from the box and shoved them under her husband's nose.

"Wipe your face, dear," she commanded.

Sheriff Garber took the tissues gratefully, wiped his mouth and rolled back onto the couch. He sniffed in disgust as Rachel took the trashcan, emptied its contents outside, and replaced the bag. She looked absolutely livid at having a husband who was so sick, he couldn't stay in his office.

"Rachel," Sheriff Garber croaked. "Could you bring me something to eat?"

"You just threw up your lunch," Rachel folded her arms. "I'm not going to make you food if you're just going to heave it out again. There's no point."

Sheriff Garber growled under his breath. "I bring the money into this house, woman. If you think you can provide for this family, you are more than welcome to!"

Rachel frowned and huffed as softly as she could, sweeping into the kitchen and hastily throwing a sandwich together. She cursed her husband as she slathered the bread with mayonnaise and grew more and more bitter as she stacked meat and cheese on top. She stalked out of the kitchen with a plate and handed it to her husband. Sheriff Garber accepted the sandwich eagerly, stuffing it into his mouth with a sudden, irrational hunger.

He had been feeling sick most of the day, and it presented itself in the form of nausea, but he almost instantly felt better. He wasn't quite sure what it was, and he wasn't complaining. As soon as he wolfed the sandwich down, he demanded another, and as soon as that one had disappeared, he demanded a third.

"What's wrong with you?" Rachel asked. "One minute, you're barfing up a lung, next thing you know, you're eating like I've starved you for days."

Sheriff Garber smiled. "I don't know. I just suddenly feel okay. Better than okay. Better than I've felt in years."

Rachel watched her husband in mild interest as he continued to eat more. She found it peculiar that he would just be so different. Even his voice sounded different. Younger, more energetic. She arched an eyebrow.

Sheriff Garber laughed. "I can't believe it." He looked at his hands expectantly. "I feel so good. Maybe the rest just hadn't kicked in yet. I feel so…horny."

Rachel's eyes widened. "Ernest!"

"I want to fuck you so bad," Sheriff Garber said in a husky whisper.

"Ernest," Rachel replied sternly. "The kids."

"You think I give a shit about them?" Sheriff Garber hissed. "Fuck me."

Rachel, though slightly alarmed by her husband's sudden and unexplainable mood swings, obeyed. She took her clothing off, sat on top of her husband, and proceeded to pleasure him in the most personally demeaning she could, not knowing that the only time she had decided to willingly have sex with her husband would be her last.

As Rachel cried her husband's name in false satisfaction, and Sheriff Garber replied with the releasing of his poisoned seed, their two children were running around near the woods in the backyard, screaming in agony. Their bodies were being ravaged by the Dusks. No matter how hard they tried to bat away the inhuman creatures, they could not get the gray bodies off of them.

And, that was only the beginning.

4:24 PM

Aqua hadn't slept a wink. Even as Riku had curled up next to her, wrapped his arms around her body, and slid the glistening diamond ring on her finger, she could not sleep. She only had twenty-one hours until her empire was gone, and it scared the shit out of her.

Riku had been so persistent in their love-making, begging for her hand in marriage. She could only reply with clever quips, and mocking comments. She couldn't believe that she had done something so irreversible. Something so irresponsible as to fuck someone so much younger than she was.

"Shit," Aqua muttered under her breath. Tears welled in her eyes. "Shit, shit, shit."

Riku shifted, but did not wake. He merely loosened his grip on the woman of his dreams and smiled softly. Aqua breathed shallowly, her mind formulating a new plan. She didn't have much time, and had to act fast. Make a split second decision.

She had to leave.

Aqua stared at her ceiling for a long time, listening to Riku's rhythmic breathing. She didn't want to go. She seriously considered closing her eyes, and waking up later that same night to her fiancée and making love to him again. She seriously considered cutting away from her bloodstained lifestyle in favor of a normal relationship with a normal man in a normal city. But, her cornered soul could not let her lose everything she sacrificed her dignity for. She just couldn't do it.

After a long, deep, unsettling sigh, Aqua gently removed Riku's arm from around her waist and slid out of bed. She washed quickly, dressing in simple attire, and gathering her maps. She stowed them in her messenger bag, and grabbed her gun, frowning the entire time. Riku had barely moved in the ten minutes it took for her to transform into an innocent civilian, and Aqua was already starting to regret her decision.

She was just about to leave, when she looked at her hand. The glittering ring already felt like it belonged there. Like it had been there forever, and that removing such an obvious display of unconditional love would be the greatest sin against God one could ever commit. She only thought about it for a minute—an eternity in another world—and closed the door as quietly as she could.

But not without leaving her wedding ring in the little velvet box it had come in.

Aqua frowned as she knocked on the door to her neighbor's apartment. It was only a short while before a young child answered.

"Hello?"

"Stephen?" Aqua said. "Are your parents home yet?"

Stephen frowned. "No, Miss Angelina. Did they send you?"

Aqua nodded. "I just wanted to check that you were okay. Do you mind if I come in?"

Stephen nodded and opened the door wider. Aqua smiled and eased in, keeping her body loose and relaxed.

"I heard the police were coming to talk to you tomorrow…"

4:53 PM

Aqua sat in the subway station, hands trembling. She could barely breathe after doing the unthinkable. She closed her eyes and sobbed softly, wishing she could make it all disappear.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked an old woman.

Aqua seized up and cleaned her face. She couldn't break down now. Not when she had such a small window to set up her next move. She waved the concerned woman away and stood up, straightening her shirt and pressing her hair down to her head. She moved through the station as people began to shuffle towards the incoming train. Aqua side stepped them and waited for the train to depart before she pulled out her gun. She only had a few minutes before more people would flood underground, or she would have to wait another twenty minutes.

"You're not planning to do anything you're going to regret, are you?"

Aqua spun around. Two police officers stood behind her, and several more filed into the station. Some of them set up barriers to keep people from coming in. Aqua smiled and laughed under her breath.

"I'm emotionally compromised," she said mockingly. "Not stupid."

The police officers laughed with her, giving off this false sense of ease, though the tension could not have been tighter. One of them pulled out his own gun and held it pointed to the floor.

"I assumed I had more time," Aqua growled. "Not until tomorrow, he said."

"Well, he says a lot of things, Angelina."

Aqua tensed.

"You're going to have to come with us, or we will arrest you," said one of the officers. He seemed nice, and genuinely concerned for Aqua's safety, but still, he had a gun, and was willing to use it. "He doesn't like to wait for things very long."

Aqua rubbed her temples. "He's not going to make this easy for me, is he?" She paused. "I should have known. Making a big spectacle out of himself. Nothing's changed."

The nicer officer approached Aqua warily and took her gun, putting it into a bag after dumping the bullets. "We appreciate your cooperation, ma'am. Mr. Fair will be very pleased you didn't retaliate harshly."

"Aqua!"

Aqua spun around, and all the officers in the station pulled out their guns, getting ready to kill whoever dared to disturb their unofficial business meeting. Cloud jumped over their barrier and rushed to Aqua. Aqua frowned.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Put your hands up!"

Cloud stopped in his tracks, raising his hands as the tension increased exponentially. Everyone was already in a bad mood, and the nicer officer's partner was an antsy fellow, ready to pull the trigger when it wasn't necessary. He pointed his gun at Cloud and screamed at him.

"Wait!" Aqua cried. "Calm down! There's no need to get angry."

"I said put your hands up!"

Cloud raised his hands and growled back. "I need to talk to her!"

"Shut up and stay there!"

"I just want to—"

"Are you carrying a weapon?"

Cloud looked around him. Police officers swarmed, guns drawn, voices raised, tempers flared. "Look, you have no right—"

"I asked you if you had a weapon! Answer me!"

Aqua pushed the nicer officer. "Stand down. You're being stupid and irrational."

"Do you have a weapon?"

Cloud sank to his knees, succumbing to the pressure of so many guns turned towards him at one time. "No, I don't. Search me."

The nicer officer's partner holstered his gun and grabbed Cloud by his hair. He patted him down roughly and after determining that there really was no weapon, he threw Cloud on the floor. Aqua pushed the nicer officer again.

"I told you to stand down," Aqua said. "I still own this city, and you will listen to me."

The nicer officer grinned. "I'm sorry, Angelina. But, you have no power anymore. It's Fair. You know that. You knew that for the last ten years. And he wants you now. It's up to you whether you keep your spotless record intact."

Aqua looked at Cloud and sighed. "Can I at least see what he wants? You don't have to make this any harder than it already is."

The nicer officer shrugged. "I suppose so. You have five minutes, then you come with us, and you never have to see New York again. Deal?"

"Fine."

Aqua stepped up to Cloud and helped him up, but instantly pushed him back into a wall, spitting poison. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here? I thought you ran."

Cloud held up his hands, his face sorry, and his posture desperate. "Please, I need your help."

"Fuck you," Aqua spat. "You ratted Terra out. That makes you a traitor."

"Please, Aqua," Cloud burst into tears. "I just needed to help Namine."

"I don't care why you did it." Aqua wrapped her fingers around Cloud's throat and squeezed with all her might. She wouldn't have been able to do anything fatal, but her message was still the same. "You betrayed Terra, which means you betrayed me, which means you die. Whether it's by my hand is still up for debate."

Cloud choked. "Please, Aqua. I didn't say anything about you. I just…needed to help Namine. Please, just hear me out. I beg you."

Aqua frowned deeper. "I'm not in a very good mood. I'm on my last legs, and you think you can just waltz in here and ask me for something? Give me one good reason why I should help you."

Cloud hung his head. "I just want Namine to be safe. She's my girlfriend, and she's pregnant. I want to make sure she's safe, by any means necessary. Please, I beg of you. I'll do whatever you ask of me. Anything."

"You're running out of time, _Aqua,_" chided the nicer officer.

Aqua glared at him. "You shut the fuck up, or I'll kill you myself."

The nicer officer, though arrogant and mocking, was not about to underestimate Aqua's ability to keep her word, and closed his mouth. Aqua sighed quickly, overwhelmed by the sudden change in the balance of power.

"Cloud," Aqua whispered. "Answer me this. If you had no choice but to leave the one you loved most because that person was a threat to your lifestyle, would you? Even if it meant that you would have absolutely nothing?"

Cloud swallowed nervously as Aqua removed her hand from his throat and smoothed his hair back in place. He thought about it for a second. "I would stay. Without a second thought."

Aqua smiled solemnly. "I guess I made the wrong choice then." She glanced back. The nicer officer tapped his watch impatiently. "Listen, I'll give you whatever you need. Food, money, housing, an education for your child, but you need to promise me two things."

Cloud swallowed again. "What?"

"First," Aqua whispered quietly, holding up one finger. "You need to protect Riku. He's in my apartment." She handed him a set of keys. "You'll find the address scribbled on a sheet of paper that's stuck to the bottom of that bench over there."

Cloud looked back. He could barely see a little piece of paper fluttering under the seat.

"Second," Aqua continued. "I need you to promise me that you will never, ever, let your child do what I did. Don't let them go. Ever. Make sure they go to college. Make sure they can be normal. I don't ever want to hear about the Strife family again unless it has degree attached to it. Do you understand?"

Cloud nodded. "Okay."

Aqua hugged him. "Thank you. I'm so sick of being the one responsible for ruining so many lives. But, it's too late for me to change anything."

Cloud shook his head "It's never too late."

Aqua laughed. "You are just as naïve as he is. It is too late. For me at least. God, I'm so sorry."

Cloud frowned as Aqua let him go and left the station with the officers. Something about the way she sounded made him uneasy. Like she knew something was going to happen, and was just choosing not to tell anyone about it. It was like she had the secret to the universe. Cloud rocked on his feet and waited until the barriers had been pulled down, and people once again bean to flood in to catch the train.

He hurried over to the bench and pulled the paper from underneath of it. Within its folds was another set of keys and a number. Cloud pulled out his cell phone, rushed above ground to Namine, who had been waiting for him at a nearby café, and dialed the number.

It rang a few times, and a relaxed, lethargic voice answered.

"It's about time you changed your mind, you PMSing bitch."

"Hello?" Cloud said. "Who is this?"

"Who is this?" the voice instant became angry, but relaxed again. "Who are you?"

"Err…Cloud."

"Where's Aqua?"

Cloud paused for a long time. "She's…gone. Taken by the police."

"Shit."

"She gave me her keys," Cloud said quickly. "And this number was there, too. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to call."

"Well, I don't know why she would want you to call me. I've been banished."

Cloud frowned again. "I think she needs your help."

"Fuck Aqua." The voice hissed. "She doesn't need me, and I don't need her."

And Cloud was met with a dial tone. He hung up and looked at Namine, who seemed a little more relaxed. His heart swelled in his chest with this intense need to protect her. She was sipping a cup of tea and she smiled when she noticed Cloud had been watching her.

"I love you," Cloud said.

"I love you, too."

Cloud stood up, placed his last few dollars on the table and took Namine's hand.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I made a promise to someone," Cloud answered. "I'm going to go get a friend."

5:16 PM

Axel had spent most of the day lining every beam in the hotel with C-4. Since it was such a pliable material, he could easily press it into all the cracks he could find, creating a building coated in explosives. Xigbar had certainly delivered quite a load of the destructive compound. And Axel had been preparing all day.

All he could think about was the look on Marluxia's face when the hotel began to collapse around him. He relished his mind's ability to create something so twisted. The way his skin would melt from his face, and how his body would be loaded with shrapnel from the metal beams around him. Axel chuckled slightly, sweating from his lack of a nicotine fix.

It had been at least ten hours since he had last smoked, but he wasn't such an addict where he would risk blowing the shit out of himself just to get a little closer to lung cancer. He whistled in the meanwhile, hoping that he would be able to finish on time.

As soon as the entire building was a fuse waiting to be set off, Axel skipped to the last room. Kairi was still handcuffed, but it was apparent that she had tried to escape. He wrists were red raw, and her face was flushed with a seething anger. Upon seeing Axel, she screamed at him.

"Let me go!"

Axel chuckled again. "I see you're a persistent one. I'm sure Marluxia will love you."

"Let me go!"

Axel shrugged and stepped into the bathroom, washing his hands and filling a cup with water. He handed it to Kairi, who drank it gratefully, but reminded herself that Axel was bad and stop abruptly.

"Don't worry, I didn't poison it." Axel looked around. "Do you mind if I smoke? Jesus, I haven't gone this long since high school. And this is the only safe place."

He lit a cigarette, sucking in the smoke greedily. His tense face instantly relaxed and he smiled. "Look, I'm sorry, alright?"

Kairi frowned. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm sure you're a nice girl," Axel said. "And I really didn't want you to be a part of this, you know? But, this is about Marluxia, not you. And I need to help _my _best friend. I'm sure you would do the exact same thing."

"I wouldn't want to kill anyone!" Kari blurted. "No one deserves that."

Axel laughed and stretched. "You have no idea about anything, do you?"

Kairi growled at Axel.

"Here, I don't think you quite understand what Marluxia is." Axel paced back and forth for a while before he spoke again. "Maybe I should give an example."

Kairi struggled against the handcuffs as Axel approached her. He seemed sad. "If I'm any good at guessing anything, he'll probably stare at you for a long time. Walk back and forth as he thinks about what he wants to do to you."

Axel sat down next to Kairi and stroked her hair. "He'll probably touch you like this, and tell you about whatever he's bothered about." He paused. "In this case, it would be about the immense pain he feels when he is not slicing Roxas into meat ribbons. Then he'll get _really _close, like this."

Axel almost touched his nose to Kairi's cheek when she head butted him. Axel reeled back, nose bleeding, screaming in pain.

"What the fuck did you do that for?"

Kairi didn't answer, but kept a slightly smug smile on her face. Axel stood up, tilted his head back and shuffled into the bathroom. Kairi waited until Axel had cleaned up before she growled at him in the most commanding voice she could muster.

"Let me go."

Axel wagged a finger at her. "I don't think so. Not after what you just did. Quite a temper. You remind me of this bitch I used to know. Angelina. She was a real piece of work. I guess I'll be going now."

Kairi frowned as Axel turned off the light and closed the door. Maybe he wouldn't rig that room to explode. He actually kind of liked Kairi, and if he hadn't fucked up his whole life by joining an Organization that was hell-bent on destroying the human race—and he had been a little younger—he might have actually taken a stab at her.

But, for now, he had to stall.

5:55 PM

Marluxia had been waiting patiently for Axel to return. Like Superior had commanded, he had taken a medication provided by Vexen to relieve him from his medically induced normalcy. And it was clear that he was not the same. That forced calm that had floated around him was gone, and in its place was a scary demon that smiled so sweetly, and glared through the soul like the Devil himself.

Is was the first thing Axel could feel as he opened the front door and made his way downstairs. Even when he was on the other side of metal, he could feel Marluxia's vastly different attitude. And when he first locked eyes with the new Assassin, his insides curdled in place.

"Hello, Axel," Marluxia hummed. "I've been waiting for you."

Axel frowned. "Listen, we had a plan. You have to wait. I promise that you'll love it."

"Oh, I'm not the least bit concerned about that," Marluxia said. "I've been waiting for you. You specifically."

"Look, I'm tired, okay?"

Marluxia slid out of his seat and sauntered over to Axel, draping his arms around his shoulders and brushing his hair playfully. "We are friends, Axel. I have a surprise for you."

Axel chuckled. "I'm not interested right now. I need to get some sleep."

"But, it's so early, Axel," Marluxia whined. "Please, just let me show you. You'll really like it."

Axel's stomach dropped to the floor. What was Marluxia doing? He was much different. Much more haunting, and it scared what little soul he had left into a dark corner where it was vulnerable. Marluxia guided Axel down the hall and into his room. Axel groaned softly as he was greeted with a blond teenager tied to a metal table. His eyes were closed.

_Please, don't be Roxas_. Axel thought.

"I thought I could teach you how to be like me, friend." Marluxia sang. "We are a team now."

"Making alliances?" Axel asked, trying his best to sound normal. "That's not like you."

"I'm different now," Marluxia replied. He slapped the boy on the cheek. "Wake up."

The teenager stirred, and opened his eyes. To Axel's relief, it was not Roxas, but the look of pure terror in the boy's eyes scared the living daylights out of him. He couldn't believe he could ever be terrified of another human being like this. The same fear that had lived in this room for years was slithering through his skin and corrupting his mind. And it went fuzzy for just a second.

Marluxia closed and locked his door, humming the entire time.

"What's going on?" the teenager asked. "What am I doing here?"

Marluxia's voice dripped with honey, calming his victim easily. "I only want to talk to you. I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you doing?" Axel breathed.

"This boy told me something that I just don't believe." Marluxia growled. "I hate liars, Axel. I hate them. Liars…must die."

Axel froze. He suddenly didn't want to be there. He actually wanted to be the farthest place away from there. He couldn't believe a monster could exist like him. Like someone who could enjoy the merciless torture of completely innocent strangers.

But, that would him a fucking hypocrite then, wouldn't it?

Marluxia smiled as he patted the blond teen's cheek. "Tell Axel what you told me."

The teen looked around. "I didn't do anything, I swear! I was just minding my own business, when this guy asked me a question. I didn't mean to insult you if I did. Please, just let me go."

Axel breathed shallowly. "What did he do?"

Marluxia frowned. "I went to my favorite restaurant, and the doors wouldn't open. So, I asked what happened to it. He says it closed."

"Restaurant?" Axel said stupidly. "You mean Luxia's?"

"Yes!" Marluxia roared. "But, he lies. It is not closed! I know he's lying!"

Axel swallowed. "Dude, Luxia's closed a long time ago. I remember seeing something about it online. He's not lying."

Marluxia breathed heavily for a long time, but regained his composure and stroked the blond teen again. "It's okay. He is only humoring me. He knows you're a liar. Liars must die."

"Wait…please…"

No matter how much the teen begged, and no matter how persistent his protests grew, Marluxia ignored him. He grabbed his scythe and stabbed the boy in the forehead, killing him instantly. But, Axel hadn't seen. No, Axel had fled as soon as he knew he told Marluxia that the one place in the world he felt normal in had disappeared. He fled as soon as he knew what he had to do. It was clear as day now.

He had to run.

* * *

**So, there you have it. Think long and hard about it for a little bit, then come back and read it again. But, for now, I have outlines to outline, papers to toss, and spring cleaning! Hooray!**

**For the record, Luxia was an actual restaurant that was actually in New York that did actually close. So sad, I know, but...it's Marluxia. 'Nuff said. God help their pitiful souls.**

**Has a nice day. From the both of us. :)**


	26. Debts Almost Paid in Full

**Well, well, well, what do we have here? Chapter 26? Written by DeadShut and Haji? Together?**

**That's right. We both worked on this chapter together. And it was a wonderfully fun chapter to write for both parties. But enough talk, time to read.**

_**W**_**elcome, **_**T**_**o the e**_**N**_**d of the first **_**W**_**ar.**

* * *

**The Second Night**

7:15 PM

Aqua had been kindly escorted to Wall Street, where she was greeted by a hulking statue of a bull that looked like it was ready to scour any enemy with its pointed horns. Aqua knew exactly what that bull meant, and her soul shivered in place as she stepped onto an elevator with the police officers and rocketed up to the top floor.

The building was just like any other. Taller than man's imagination was comfortable with, gleaming in last dregs of sunlight that could barely be seen hanging in the west, and littered with the fluorescent lights of late staying workers. Aqua's stomach fell to the floor as they shot higher and higher, entering a world that was far beyond reach.

When the elevator doors opened, a hallway lined in linens led to a door that had leather stretched over it, with brass doorknobs. It was gorgeous, and it gave an air of superiority that Aqua found distasteful. The nicer officer knocked on the door, and waited for a few seconds before opening the door and pushing Aqua through. Aqua growled at him, but he ignored her as he closed the door without entering.

Aqua looked around the room. It was lavish, more like a penthouse than an office, and there was a small couch surrounded by modern tables and angular statues. And on the small couch sat a young woman.

She looked like she could have been in her early twenties. Her straight black hair was cut at her ear, and she looked slightly impatient, but friendly. Aqua eyed her, seeing instantly that she was a threat, though what kind was not that obvious. She didn't want to involve herself with this foreign woman, and for a brief moment, thought that this woman could have been the one sent to take her place.

But Aqua wasn't going to get booted from her own empire. No, she had worked too hard to have it taken away from her, and she was willing to kill this woman with her bare hands if it came down to it. But, she had to focus. She couldn't afford to jump to conclusions in her situation. She had to stay calm. Poised, just like usual.

"Hi!"

Aqua glared at the woman, frowning in disapproval at being addressed by someone so perceptibly impudent. "Who are you?"

"I'm Yuffie." The woman extended a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Aqua ignored her hand and turned away. "I wish I could say the same thing."

"Are you in trouble?" Yuffie cocked her head. "Is there something I can help you with? I'm really good at helping people, you know."

Aqua scoffed softly and folded her arms. She wasn't sure why Yuffie was posing such a threat to her. She smiled too innocently, spoke so proper, and bounced on her heels like a child. She was seemingly perfect, hiding under a mask that wasn't as well put together and believable as her own. Aqua blinked slowly. Something wasn't right.

"Ah, Angelina."

Aqua spun around, and came face to face with an older gentleman with graying hair and twinkling eyes. She froze and dropped her mouth open into a small crescent that betrayed her shock and panic.

Before her stood Julian Fair. It was an unwelcoming sight. A nightmare coming true in its most basic form. Aqua almost cried, but pulled herself together and smiled dangerously. She was ready to fight. Maybe with much more than words.

"I see you've met your possible replacement." Julian smiled widely and motioned to Yuffie. "Yuffie, this is Angelina Godfrey, or 'Aqua'."

Aqua hissed. "Don't tell her who I am."

"It's okay, Angelina," Julian said. "Yuffie is Yolanda Brecht. Now that you two know each other, I hope you will learn to become great friends."

Aqua spat at Yuffie. "I am not training my own replacement. She can go fuck herself."

"Now, now," Julian whispered. "Play nice. You don't even know what she's here for yet. I promise you she's no threat to you or your empire. At least not yet."

Aqua frowned slightly. "What do you mean 'not yet'?"

"Come," Julian said motioning to his office door. "Let's talk in private. I'm sure Miss Brecht wouldn't mind."

Yuffie smiled. "Of course not, Julian. Take your time."

Julian returned the smile and guided Aqua into his office, closing the door behind him and shedding his business jacket. He hung it up on a solid gold hook and stepped over to a small bar that sat in the corner. Aqua remained silent as he poured three glasses of wine, humming gently.

"You know why you're here, right?" Julian asked as he handed a glass to Aqua.

Aqua sipped the drink warily. "Yes, but you lied about the amount of time I had. I thought we would have been meeting tomorrow. I was disappointed."

"Don't fret, darling," Julian said. "It's just something came up, and I can't afford to push the date. So let's just get down to business."

Aqua nodded and placed her glass on Julian's desk. "Fine, you can have it. I don't want it anymore."

Julian laughed, long and hard. He stood by the huge window that sat just behind his desk, allowing all of New York to figuratively bow before him. Aqua was beginning to hate him more and more as his laughter echoed in her ears.

"That's a lie, and you and I both know that," he said, sobering. "You want to keep your empire so badly, that you were just about to do the second stupidest thing in your entire career after contacting Eraqus."

Aqua paced the room, wishing so badly that she had a gun so she could shoot something. "I know I breached the contract, okay? I'm willing to hand it over to you, right here, right now. So, get your ego boosting speech done and over with and I'll get out of your hair."

"Now, there you go again," Julian interrupted, "jumping to conclusions as usual. Angelina, please, allow me to explain to you why you're here today."

Aqua sat in the only seat available to her and crossed her legs defensively. Julian placed his glass on his desk and sat across from Aqua, folding his hands in front of him and leaning over the polished wood. His carefree face swirled from a peaceful happiness to a concentrated missile. He frowned deeply, taking on an exterior of dominance.

"I'm going to get straight to the point, Angelina," Julian said. "I'm not interested in taking your empire. I know that you've been working for this for a long time."

"You should know," Aqua said harshly. "You funded me."

"Yes, I did," Julian mused briefly. "Best business deal I've ever made. And I wouldn't want to take that from you.

"First, it would take way too much money on my part to exchange your territory, get rid of your most loyal colleagues, and reconnect with distributors under a different management. That takes too long. And I have neither the time, nor the funds.

"And, even if I could scrape the five hundred million dollars to reform your illegal business, it would take too much time to figure out how to explain to the United States government how half a billion dollars just disappeared. And I am certainly not funding it personally."

Aqua nodded slightly as Julian spoke. She was interested in where he was going with his ramblings, and was willing to wade through his extensive speech to get what she wanted. Julian fell silent and stared at Aqua.

"I'm going to make you a deal," he said sternly. "You will have to make this choice right now. Do you accept?"

Aqua frowned and bowed her head slightly. "I'm tempted, but I don't think I'd be interested. Thanks, but no thanks."

Aqua stood and turned around swiftly. Julian followed slowly, waiting for the inevitable change in Aqua's mind. It really was scary how well he knew Aqua. It was like they had known each other for their whole lives, for not even a whole minute later, Aqua glanced at Julian and sighed deeply.

"What did you have in mind?" Aqua whispered.

Julian smiled and gestured back to his desk, "Sit, let's talk."

Aqua nodded and sat back down, losing that panicked feeling in her chest, and settling into that seat of authority that made her an intimidating force. Julian poured a fourth glass of wine and took the forgotten third one, placing it in front of her.

"It appears that the company I had planned isn't showing today," Julian frowned. "Flaky son of a bitch."

Aqua stared at the glass. "What did you want to talk about?"

Julian sat down. "I was interested in renegotiating the terms of your contract." He paused. "I realize that the contact you made with Eraqus is irreversible, and you will need to be punished for it. But, I think that the current terms are a little outdated."

"Oh, Julian," Aqua hummed. "You never fail to point out the obvious."

"So, we're on better terms now, are we?" Julian teased. "I should make you suck my dick like a little cunt."

Aqua's mouth dropped open.

"Shut the fuck up," Julian hissed. "You are not in power here."

Aqua narrowed her eyes but did not speak.

"You have two choices," Julian said, dropping that dark tone. "You can either give me your empire so I may pass it to the current owner of the Golden Coast."

"You mean that child out there is my West Coast equivalent?"

Julian nodded silently. "Or, you could give me something worth more than all the drugs in the world."

Silence.

"I see your curiosity is lacking."

Aqua blinked. "I don't think I'm going to take your deal."

"If you don't, you lose everything," Julian said. "I'll take everything you have. Your house, your cars, your legitimate businesses. Everything. I won't leave you with a pot to piss in. And then we'll have another foreclosure crisis."

Aqua jumped to her feet, slamming her fists on the desk. "You will not coerce me, Julian!"

Julian jumped to his feet as well. "And you will not disrespect me. I pulled you off the streets, you fucking whore. You listen to me."

"I will level this entire city if I have to!"

Julian huffed angrily, but did not retort. He eased back into his chair and sipped his wine quietly. "I just want to make a deal. Please, let's leave the past in the past, shall we? I mean, after this, we'll never have to see each other."

Aqua sank into her seat. "Your second option?"

Julian nodded. "When you get to be my age, you begin to feel this certain pull in your heart that tells you that you are about to die. This feeling gets stronger everyday, and I fear that I may pass on from this life without being able to secure my affairs."

"Why does this concern me? I don't care what you have to do."

Julian frowned deeper and sighed. "I need something that I don't have. And this something is can only be provided by someone such as yourself."

Aqua scoffed. "But, I'm just a little whore, remember? Why should I help you?"

Julian smiled and leaned back in his chair, thinking. "You and I both know you would never give up your empire. No matter how hard you fell for a man. He would just never live up to your standards." He grinned wider. "And I know that you would do anything to keep it that way. But, I'm determined to secure myself as well, so here's the deal."

Aqua appeared to not be interested, but she couldn't help but secretly feel a small nugget of excitement grow in her chest as Julian rambled for a few more minutes. He was testing her patience, she could tell, and she was determined to not lose her calm persona.

"I want an heir," Julian said finally.

Aqua paused. She wasn't quite sure if she had heard him right. "You want an heir?" She thought for a moment. "Don't you have one already? Your son…Zack, right?"

Julian laughed. "Yes, I have a son. And, yes, Zack is his name, but he will never be my heir. If you remember our deal from before."

Aqua grimaced. That incident hadn't even crossed her mind. Which meant she had, once again, made a bad decision. She cursed herself inwardly and frowned.

"So, you want me to give you an heir," Aqua said slowly. She was already planning. "I could find you one."

"No!" Julian cried. "No, _you _must make me an heir."

Aqua growled audibly. "I'm not fucking you."

Julian laughed again. "Silly girl, I only want a grandson. There is no need to jump to such rash conclusions. Consider it your debt finally paid in full. Then you can resume your distasteful career choice and I can die in peace."

Aqua snorted. "Never in your life. I'm not doing that again."

"Again?" Julian asked.

Aqua shook her head. "Never mind. I'm not an incubator. Find a real whore, you disgusting dick. I'm leaving."

Aqua stood up and gathered herself before turning on her heels and leaving. Julian escorted her, but didn't dare touch her, for he could see the seething anger under the surface.

"Zack will be arriving at the airport sometime tomorrow," Julian said hurriedly. "Just in case you change your mind."

Aqua ignored him. She left his office and strode straight into the office waiting area where Yuffie was examining an expensive looking vase that sat on a solid marble pedestal. She was humming a song that sounded very Californian and she rocked on her feet slightly to the beat. As Aqua passed her, she grabbed her from behind, locking her head in her arms.

"You listen to me, you pompous little slut," Aqua hissed. Yuffie struggled against her, but did not cry out for fear of being silenced for good. "You're going to go back to your pathetic excuse for an existence in dear old California. That's where you're gonna stay, you hear me?"

Yuffie nodded.

"I don't have time to deal with your attempts to overthrow me, or whatever the fuck you were planning with Julian. If you dare to enter my territory again, I will personally find you and slit your God damn throat. New York is NOT Los Angeles, you understand?"

Yuffie nodded again and Aqua threw her to the floor and stepped into the elevator. She jammed the 'Lobby' button and held her face as the elevator plummeted to the ground. It was overwhelming the amount of stress she was placing on herself. And she felt amazingly empty even though she had just threatened her West Coast equivalent into submission.

The elevator stopped, and two men tried to enter, but Aqua snarled at them.

"GET OUT!"

The two men backed away, scared. The doors closed again, and Aqua slid to the floor, holding her head. She just wanted to disappear. Turn invisible so she could go home and not have to worry about anything anymore. She was tired of always having to be on guard, always having to be mean and powerful. Julian had proved that she wasn't as high as she had been once before; that there were people who were much more powerful than she was.

She resisted the urge to cry. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't allow herself to become weak, especially since her number of non-allies was growing in leaps and bounds. She was sure she was going to hear something about her threat to Yuffie. It was only a matter of time.

As she exited Julian's office building, the sheer magnitude of his outreach hit her as the doorman tipped his hat respectfully.

"Thank you for visiting Fair Financing," he said. "Have a nice day, Ma'am."

Aqua acknowledged him, but didn't respond. She opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk, ignoring the pushes and shoves of the New York natives as they made their way home. The lights were just beginning to turn on, and the hustle of the streets rang out in a chorus of car horns and curses. Aqua let the sounds consume her, falling into a simulation of slow motion as she contemplated her next move.

And she didn't snap out of it until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Her first instinct told her to attack the person behind her, but she could find neither the strength nor the will to do so. She turned her head slowly.

"I'm sorry for your loss," said a strange woman.

Aqua furrowed her brow. "It's okay. I'll be fine."

The strange woman shook her head. "We needed him to help us. He is safe. He joined us willingly. And, soon, so will you."

Aqua frowned. This woman had to be under the influence of some kind of drug. A drug that had probably been bought in Miami, shipped through a runner, and sold in the streets. For all she knew, she could have the woman's last twenty dollars in her pocket right now, and this thought greatly depressed her.

"What do you want?" Aqua asked.

The strange woman smiled. "I've been watching you."

Aqua stiffened.

"You are such a good person," the strange woman said. "You are just on the wrong path. But, you have shown us that you belong with us. This is rare."

Aqua didn't answer.

"I will help you," the strange woman said. "I will help you the same way you help others."

Aqua let the strange woman walk away. She was slightly concerned about what she had been talking about, but was for too burdened to care. The strange woman disappeared into the crowd of the city, and Aqua turned on her heels, preparing herself for her next step. She had to reform her empire in an extremely short period of time and wasn't quite sure what she truly wanted anymore.

9:15 PM

Hayner hated knocking on his parents' door for two reasons. First of all, he really didn't like to disturb his parents so late at night, and sometimes their reactions weren't too pleasant either. And the second thing that tortured his brain was the fact that he hadn't spoken to his parents for a long time.

But, to his surprise, when the wooden door opened, he was greeted by his mother, who was a stern looking woman, but not because she was angry, or worried. No, she had the look of a devote Christian, and her piercing stare was because she had been in the middle of prayer. But, she softened slightly when she saw her blond son standing on her doorstep.

"Hayner!" she cried. "You're back!"

Hayner nodded, smiling slightly, but frowned again when his father came to the door. He had been expecting a hug and cries of joy, but he had been denied such a luxury. His father thumped him on the back and invited him in.

"We thought you'd never come back," he said. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten where you lived."

Hayner tensed slightly under his father's eye. He had actually returned for two things. One, to introduce his parents to Isa, and, two, because Isa told him to. Seneca, Ohio was small. Everyone knew everyone else, and Hayner had been desperate to leave. He hadn't really wanted to return in the first place, but he couldn't disobey Isa, and he really did need to get away from the constant bustle of the big city.

"So, how's school?"

Hayner looked up at his mother, who had brewed a quick cup of tea. She handed him the cup, and he took it after mumbling a thanks. He didn't really want to talk about school because he hadn't been to school in a few months, and he _really _didn't want to tell them about his elicit activities. He knew they wouldn't approve.

"Those Philly folks treatin' you right, son?"

Hayner sipped his tea. "Actually, Dad, Philadelphia is a very nice place. The people are nice and it's clean. Not as clean as here, but the streets are taken care of."

"Are you going to church every Sunday?"

"Well, sometimes my schedule doesn't allow me to, but I pray everyday."

Hayner's mother beamed in approval, but his father huffed.

"I don't believe you, boy." He folded his arms. "You sound like them. I can hear it in your accent. You been there too long."

Hayner frowned. "That's what happens when you live there, Dad. You start to sound like the people who live around you."

Hayner's mother could hear the anger in her husband's voice, and decided to quickly change the subject. She smiled as sweetly as her face would allow and sipped from her own cup of tea.

"Did you meet any nice girls?"

Hayner paled. "That's actually what I wanted to come talk to you guys about."

"Oh, you found one?"

Hayner opened his mouth to speak, but both of his parents were beginning to get excited. He could see a twinkle in their eyes, and a small twitch of the lips. They were happy, and they looked as if this had been the first time this had happened in a long time. Hayner smiled half-heartedly, and didn't want to tell him that his 'nice girl' was actually a drug dealer who had just been shot.

"Tell us about her."

Hayner frowned briefly. "Well, this person is wonderful company. They always listen to me, except when they are really busy with business. And they care about what I think most of the time. And they return my affections—"

"Do you fuck her?"

Hayner nodded. "Yes, and he is respectful towards my sexual choices—"

Hayner's mother laughed falsely. "You mean she?"

Hayner paused. "No…I mean he. His name is I—er, I mean Lawrence. And I love him more than anybody else in the world."

Hayner's father bristled. "You fuckin' men?"

"No," Hayner said. "I fuck only one man. And I love it."

"I'm not going to have no faggot living in my house."

"Come on, Dad." Hayner stood up. "You didn't even meet him yet. He promised me that he was on his way, and he said he would love to meet you."

"I ain't havin' no faggots in my house!"

Hayner pushed his father. "Why can't you just be happy for me? I mean, it took a lot to even tell you this. Please, Mom, Dad, just hear me out."

"I ain't gonna have no gay son. I don't appreciate no cock-sucking man in my house!" Hayner's father pushed him back. "You get the fuck out!"

Hayner stood his ground. "You haven't even met him. You don't know anything about him at all."

Hayner's father grew red, and Hayner could see that staying any longer would pose a threat to his life. He collected himself together, grabbed the only bag he had brought with him and headed to the door. His mother hadn't done a thing to help him, or come to his defense at all, and he hated both of them for that.

"Well, while we're on the subject," Hayner spat at his father. "I quit business school, too. I'm an accountant, you unloving mother fucker. I hope you rot in Hell."

Hayner stormed out, never to look back at his parents again. He had only gone a little farther than the next house when he realized he had nowhere to go. Panic instantly rose in his chest, for the last light on the street before the winding road was right above him, and the only thing ahead was darkness. He pulled out his phone, tears welling in his eyes and burning the bridge of his nose.

"_I'm sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is unavailable at this time, please leave a message after the tone—"_

No sooner had he heard the beep, did Hayner break down. He sniffed, trying to keep his voice level as he let his fear show.

"It's me, Isa," Hayner sobbed. "I'm not going to be home anymore. I have to go Cleveland. My parents don't want me. I wish you were here. I'm all alone…" Hayner sniffed again, trying desperately to pull himself together. "Please don't forget to come get me…I love you."

Hayner hung up the phone, and after a few more minutes, made his way into the darkness. The main road was only a few miles away, and it wasn't like he had never traveled those dark roads before. It just felt scarier as he left his hometown, by himself, not knowing that Isa would never come for him.

And, at the moment, he truly was all alone.

**Day Three: The Night of Detonation**

Love.

The most powerful ambition a person can have. It is what makes a human a human. Words can't come close to illustrating it, for love is such a beautiful fragment in the stained-glass window of nature that it is indescribable. It is a blanket woven with heartstrings and covers many. The sociopathic and remorseless do not feel such things; deem it unnecessary to feel for other people, and so their hearts are cold and outside of the blanket's loving warmth. They have nothing to give to the blanket, and so they do not meddle within the affairs of those wrapped inside it.

Then, however, there are those who have been kicked outside of the blanket. And for that, they resent the blanket. To them, the blanket has given nothing but grief and misery, so they work everyday trying to best it, trying to train themselves to live outside of the blanket without feeling the coldness of sociopathy.

But they find themselves incapable. They lead lonely lives, entering doorways to emptiness, walking on foreign and deserted sidewalks.

And so Zeke Fender walked on the quiet sidewalk in Chinatown. The street to the side of him was made of some brick-like material that he had always enjoyed looking at, finding it to be much more interesting to look at than the everyday black roads with the yellow cuts in their middles. These were roads that were enjoyable, a nice change from the norm.

This entire situation was a nice change from the norm as well. Kairi was missing, or rather, Kairi had been kidnapped. Zexion had not stuck around the get anymore details from Sora's conversation, and for that he was currently kicking himself. This city was humongous. Hell, Manhattan alone was humongous. Shit, the _world_ was humongous. Who said Kairi was still even in the United States by now? No. No, right now, he would look for Sora again. Try and get some more information about her kidnapper.

It had shocked him to hear Kairi's name from the Keyblader that had fought Roxas and caused so much trouble for the Organization. Very disturbing. If Kairi was with Sora, then it would be easy to believe that she was also working with him. And if she was working with him, then she was working against the Organization. Which meant, technically, she had to die.

But alas, he knew that he could never lay a finger on her. In high school, he could hardly stay in the same room as her without being overcome with misery and longing. That feeling was back now, and more intense than ever. He wanted to save her, yes, but not to be a knight in shining armor. Zexion was no hero. He wanted to find her to confront her. To tell her everything. Because now that the old hurts and pains had resurfaced, Zexion felt awful. In his true heart, or whatever remained of it, he felt as though he was going down. That this was it; that it would all end for him with this recent kidnapping.

Underneath his business-attire that he had disguised himself in, Zexion had a rather large handgun. In it were bullets intended for Kairi's kidnappers, and perhaps Kairi herself.

He would not touch her, no, not without telling her off first. Not without telling her how flawed she was. Not without telling her how unjust and illogical and heartbreaking she had been to him. Then he would kill her.

And suddenly Zexion felt an overwhelming sense of _purpose_ that almost brought him to his knees. Yes, he had a mission now. Like his entire life, he was a chess player and everyone was a pawn…except for Kairi herself, who played the opposite side of the table. And he, like always, intended to win this game once and for all.

The game was the game of his life. Since the day he had been born, since the day his parents had decided to procreate, this game of wits and emotion had been waiting for him to take a seat and play it. His entire life's work, his ambitions and desires, every fear and hatred, every thought and idea, had all been working up to this very moment. He could _feel_ it.

The rash itched like hell. And now he had ulcers in his mouth, even feeling one growing in his throat. These wicked pains would only go away once he had control of the situation again…if he ever did.

_Will I truly, though? Will ending the girl I love truly rid all this? Somehow, I doubt it. Somehow, I think all of this is my fault. The ulcers, the rash, the headaches, Larxene, the constant pain in my chest…it's all _me_. She's the puppet-master to my irrationality, and she doesn't. Even. Fucking. Know. _

_ Well, then. I intend to make her acknowledge it. Maybe I'll kill her, maybe not. Do gods feel mercy? Perhaps we shall see soon._

He continued his search.

It was _12:00_ PM.

* * *

Vexen sat in his laboratory, staring at a small strip of light held by a tube. The light glowed bright yellow-orange, and was the only thing illuminating the room besides the small IPod player behind him, which was playing the mellow tunes of Radiohead. Vexen studied the strip of light with a small scope made of gold.

"Mmm," he muttered to himself. "Yes…yes, I see. How fascinating…the spectrum, when looking at sodium, shows all visible light…_muy interesante…_God, I hope no one heard me say that…"

He looked through the rainbow being formed through the spectroscope enjoying the hues. The green was the most powerful of the colors, but soon all seven colors intensified as the door to Vexen's room opened and the lights were flicked on.

"Dammit," he muttered, placing the spectroscope on the table in front of him. He called to the person behind him, "C'mon in, I wasn't busy or anything."

Saix laughed heartily and said, "Many apologies, Vex'. What is that you've got there? Sodium light?"

"Indeed. I wanted to see what light had the highest wavelength in its spectrum."

"I never figured you for a chemist. Is this Radiohead playing?"

"Yeah, it is. And, I dunno. My entire life has been around biotechnology and biology in general. I guess I want to delve into other subjects now that I've created the _Mona Lisa_ of the virology-world."

Amused, Saix asked, "And you chose the electromagnetic spectrum?"

"I like color. Always have. I'm also studying temperature nowadays. Gotta strange case of the chills."

"Really?"

"No, I'm just yankin' your chain. But I _do_ want to head up far North to study some glaciers. Their preserving skills fascinate me."

"What are you planning to preserve?"

"Not a clue. But if I ever find the need to do such a thing, I wanna be damn sure that I'm ready." Vexen stood up and went over to his computer. He sat down at the desk and began to open up some complex codes. "What'd you come in for, Superior? Anything I can help ya' with?"

"We're going to witness the empire of humanity one last time before we begin our utter destruction of it, remember?"

"Yeahhh. About that…Saix, that idea is ridiculously stupid. I think we all know what we're going to go through, and what we're going to put humanity through. The politics of this hardly concerns me. Just accomplishing what I joined to accomplish is the only thing that matters, really, plus the survival of my friends. Count me out."

"Alright, look," said Saix, troubled. "You can stay, but that'd leave hardly any of us left. Zexion's sick as a dog, isn't he?

"My God, don't even get me started. The kid's got something wrong with him up here." Vexen tapped his head. Saix's eyebrows rose. "Stress-related issues."

"You think he feels remorse?"

"Zexion? No. I think something else is bothering him. I monitored his heart the other day…Saix, he's showing very familiar symptoms…it's a type of heart failure. The wraparound LAD concerns me. If he does not relax a little bit, I do believe he's going to suffer from takotsubo cardiomyopathy."

"Broken-heart Syndrome," muttered Saix. A concerned look dimmed his already-dark eyes. "You don't think…?"

"I don't know, sir. Why don't you just go out to dinner with Xigbar and Xehanort or something? We can do this some other time."

Saix sighed. "Fine. Say, what's that pile of junk on the table over there?"

Vexen looked up. "Ah. Axel brought that to me to reassemble. I was just about to get to that."

"Is it important?"

"Dunno. I'll see."

"Alright. Catch you later, Vex."

"See ya', Saix."

Vexen rolled over to the computer parts. He smiled; it had been a long time since he had fixed up a system like this. His last was in…what? Freshman year of college? Something along the lines of that.

A good hour and a half later, the computer had been entirely assembled. Although still a dusty old thing, it was able to turn on with no problem. Instead of the usual logo and jingle that came with all the late 90's computers, this system went automatically to some sort of strange coding-program that took up the entire screen. A small cursor blinked on and off.

Frowning, Vexen typed in: . Nothing. . Not a thing. **start**. _Nada_.

However, suddenly, the top of the screen read: **Incoming call from ##proxy…Accept? Decline?**

"What in the…"

Vexen moved the mouse and clicked **Accept**. A chat-log opened up on the screen. He read the first message, then replied. The conversation began…

THE CHAT LOG:

**##proxy: Hello, there. **

**##anon: Hello.**

**##proxy: Who might this be?  
##anon: I was going to ask you the same thing.  
##proxy: I do believe YOUR identity is more important than mine at the moment. You reassembled the computer?  
##anon: Yes. And my name is Vexen. What is yours?**

**##proxy: I am the Proxy. That's all I'm known as. **

**##anon: Are you a bot? AI? **

**##proxy: No. I am very much real. Where on Earth did you find the parts to this computer?  
##anon: A computer store across the street from some hotel in Manhattan. It's been closed for a while.**

**##proxy: Name of the store?  
##anon: I do believe it was once called Juan's Circuit City.**

**##proxy: Juan Alex Martinez, graduate of P.S. 119, father to none, online alias "Killswitch013", not married, owner of Juan's Circuit City, small-time computer store. Went missing June 4****th**** of this year, body found in the Hudson River with no clear signs of cause of death. Possible electrocution from an extreme source of energy, namely "the Keyblade".  
##anon: Holy God. Do you know where the Keyblade is?**

**##proxy: Locating…**

**##anon: Hello?  
##proxy: Purchased by Martinez four years ago by a man named Shady Sam who also died on June 4****th**** from unknown causes. Samuel's seller is currently unknown. Last public sighting of the Keyblade: on the city streets, used in combat against two feigned-Keyblades. **

**##anon: Do you know a lot about the Keyblade?**

**##proxy: I do.  
##anon: What is it? What is its purpose?  
##proxy: A weapon. A storage device. And a compass.  
##anon: A compass? That points to where?  
##proxy: To the Pin.  
##anon: What is the Pin?  
##proxy: The Pin is what holds existence together. An extreme amount of energy from an unknown source. Classified in U.S. documents as "Kingdom Hearts". **

**##anon: What is in the Pin?  
##proxy: One must go and see, though the journey is not easy. **

**##anon: How can we start? What can we do? Where is the entrance to the passage to Kingdom Hearts? **

**##proxy: You can start with activating the Keyblade with a loyal and true heart. What can you "do"? You can use the code to start. The entrance is in the code.**

**##anon: Where is the code?  
##proxy: The code is in the computer you are using right now.  
##anon: Where is it specifically?  
##proxy: I have it.**

**##anon: What do I have to do to get it from you?**

**##proxy: Nothing. You assembled the computer. Would you like the code?**

**##anon: Yes. Please. I'm begging you.  
##proxy: No need to beg. I am not a briber. I am the Proxy. **

**##anon: Thank you very much. Can I thank you in person?  
##proxy: Yes. I am easily recognizable on the city streets, for I wear **

**#anon: Okay. So…  
##proxy: The Pin. 01001001 01010100 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 01010011 00100000 01001001 01010100 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 01010011 00100000 01001001 01010100 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 01010011 00100000 01000100 01011001 01001001 01001110 01000111 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 01010011 00100000 01000010 01010101 01010100 00100000 01010100 01001000 01000101 00100000 01010111 01000001 01011001 00100000 01010100 01001111 00100000 01010100 01001000 01000101 00100000 01010000 01001001 01001110 00100000 01001100 01001001 01000101 01010011 00100000 01010111 01001001 01010100 01001000 01001001 01001110 00100000 01000101 01000001 01000011 01001000 00100000 01001111 01000110 00100000 01010101 01010011 00100000 01000001 01010011 00100000 01000101 01001110 01000101 01010010 01000111 01011001 00100000 01001001 01010011 00100000 01000101 01010100 01000101 01010010 01001110 01000001 01001100 00100000 01010111 01000101 00100000 01010111 01001001 01001100 01001100 00100000 01000001 01001100 01001100 00100000 01000001 01010011 01000011 01000101 01001110 01000100 00100000 01010100 01001000 01000101 01010010 01000101 00100000 01000101 01010110 01000101 01001110 01010100 01010101 01000001 01001100 01001100 01011001 00100000 01010100 01001000 01000101 00100000 01010111 01000001 01011001 00100000 01010100 01001111 00100000 01010000 01001000 01011001 01010011 01001001 01000011 01000001 01001100 01001100 01011001 00100000 01000101 01001110 01010100 01000101 01010010 00100000 01010100 01001000 01000101 00100000 01010000 01000001 01010011 01010011 01000001 01000111 01000101 00100000 01010100 01001111 00100000 01010100 01001000 01000101 00100000 01010000 01001001 01001110 00100000 01001001 01010011 00100000 01010100 01001111 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 00100000 01001000 01010101 01010010 01010100 00100000...**

Vexen watched as the code revealed itself. Eventually he was able to translate the first part, which was rather confusing and nonsensical. When he messaged The Proxy again, the code resumed.

And Vexen almost passed out from shock.

* * *

Sora ran his hands through his hair for possibly the thousandth time after he had been told of Kairi's kidnapping. Don and Goofy looked at him from across the well-polished table of Suzie's Diner; despite Sora's lack of appetite, the agents were ravenous for some breakfast even though it was 1:30 in the afternoon. The only thing Sora ordered was a coffee that he sipped on once every minute.

"Lea, you say?" he asked Goofy for not the first time today. "The guy's name was Lea?"

"Yes, Sora," said Goofy.

"Tall guy, red hair?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck," Sora cried. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. I _knew_ him…I had _met_ him…at Club Heartless. He must've been trying to keep an eye on us for Xehanort, whoever the fuck that is. I owe that sonofabitch scientist a punch in the face."

"That'll be harder than you think," a voice said from behind them. Sora turned and saw Mick in his usual outfit of green, along with Officer Everett who was wearing his police uniform.

"Senator!" said Don. "What a surprise…"

"It is not Senator anymore, my loyal and trustworthy agent," said Mick sadly. "I resigned."

"What?" asked Sora sharply. "Why?"

"After a brief battle with Xehanort, I've decided politics do not interest me any longer. My main focus needs to be the Organization. And, for that, I'm going to have to have _all_ my soldiers."

"Where's Braig?"

"Gone," answered Everett sadly. "We don't know where, but gone."

"Where's Riku?" demanded Mick.

"He…he went to find someone," said Sora. "Someone he loves."

"The mobster," whispered Mick. "Son. Of. A. _Bitch_." His voice trailed off and he looked into Sora's coffee, deep in thought.

"S-sir?"

"Forty witnesses to a drug dealing killed in the last week. Men, women, _and_ children. Dead." Mick looked up into Sora's eyes. "Riku loves a sociopath, a monster with a mask. 'Aqua', she calls herself. It was her gang that he got wrapped up in. I thought I could bully her into cooperation, but it seems she's even more psychotic now than she was before all of this. If Riku stays dedicated to her, then he's done with all this. It's over for him. A life of a criminal is what awaits him, although I am not surprised he never redirected his fate."

"That's bullshit. He can do both…hell, he _has_ done both! What would all this be for, if not for a better world?"

"For _her_," growled Mick. "That crazy cunt. That witch. Riku hated the Heartless because _she_ hated the Heartless."

Sora felt his heart sink at the thought of this. Was Riku not the person he had hero-worshipped? Was Riku truly just a broken criminal, determined to get someone he loved instead of doing what was right? If so, then Sora had been lied to, and now he was all alone.

"I'm all alone," he spoke on the verge of tears.

"On the contrary," said Mick flatly. "We'll be recruiting others. There are more to come. And we _will_ rescue Kairi. Sora, I promise you that."

"What others?" asked Sora, deliberately ignoring Mick's pledge.

"We've got two pilots already. They're very good. Brothers, actually."

"Their names?" asked Don.

"Chip and Dale. But that isn't important. What's important is for us to find Lea, and beat the crap outta him until he tells us where he took my agent, and why he would do such a thing."

"How can we do that?" moaned Sora. "The city's such a big place…"

"Can the whiny bullshit, Sora, and that's an order," said Mick coldly. "I need a soldier, not a complainer, and if I didn't hire a soldier than you are worthless to our cause. Do you fucking understand me?"

Sora was so shocked at this declaration that he almost audibly gasped. However, he did gape, as did the rest of the table, at Mick's tone of voice. This was a man who had been pushed past his limits, and although he was tired, he was not going to stop for anything when it came to acquiring his goal.

Sora now knew how Mick had become a Senator. The man was as ambitious as the Organization XIII seemed to be, except his cause was to better the world instead of to destroy it. The Senate would be losing possibly its best contributor, although they would—more likely than not—never acknowledge it.

Finally, Sora said, "Okay. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, son," said Mick. "I know you truly mean well. You just want her to be safe. She's your friend."

"No…" said Sora, suddenly uncomfortable. "No, she's more than that. Kairi and I have been seeing each other. Ever since we met. There's something about her and I…it's beyond us, I guess. That's the only way I can explain it. This might be Keyblade-Sora talking, though."

"'Keyblade-Sora'?" asked Mick.

"The Keyblade has been influencing a lot of what I've been doing, Mick. I know it sounds weird, but there's something about this thing that has embedded itself inside of me. I can see things for what they are nowadays, and it's all thanks to this thing. I wish to God I knew what it was, but that's one of the only pieces of insight it hides from me. One of the things that I _can_ see is Kairi and me. Everything in my life, every choice I have ever made, it's lead me up to her. She's the ultimate goal right now for me, Mick. If I lose her, there's no sense in going on unless it would be to avenge her death by slaughtering her captors.

"This stupid device and the adventures it's been putting me through have matured me more than I could ever imagine. I was a child a little more than a month ago, and for some reason I've been drafted into some war that's beyond me. And that child resurfaced when I heard Kairi was gone. But now I realize have to keep fighting. Fighting for her."

He took out the Keyblade, and it extended in his hand. The metal grew red with heat.

"So where do I start, Mick?"

Rather impressed with this speech, Mick began, "What we need to do is start with Aqua. As much as it pains me to say it, Riku's lover needs to be put down. Permanently."

"Killing Aqua won't bring me back Kairi, now will it, former-Senator?"

"Relax, Sora. You can't tear New York apart just to find your girlfriend."

"I can try."

"And die in the effort to, while she's possibly still alive. Right now I'm trying to buy you time."

"Time to do what?"

"Have a vision. Whatever this Keyblade is, it's given you a sort of telepathy and, as you said, insight. It lets you _know_ certain things, especially when speaking about people on our side and those against our side. This gift the Keyblade has given you is extraordinary, and probably the only way we can find out where Kairi is once and for all."

Sora thought it over. It made sense; he had been receiving visions everyday now, all of them useful. They had shown him his enemies, including the mob-girl. In fact, they showed him her _friends_ as well, that cunning and sly Lawrence and the smart-alecky…

"Oh my God," he croaked. "She knows him…she _knows_ him…"

"Hmm?" asked Mick, taking a sip of Don's coffee. Don look at him disapprovingly.

"Aqua," Sora whispered. "She knows Lea! They were friends, hell, she even made love to him! Maybe she's working for the Organization? Or at least maybe they're still in touch!"

"Perhaps. Then you should get to her, eh? I have someone who knows of her whereabouts…let's just say I have other agents I send on other tasks. I can give you the address." He scribbled an address on a sheet of paper.

Sora was out the door and running down the sidewalk a second later, the slip of paper in his hand. He didn't even bother to say goodbye to the rest of Mick's crew; that would've been seconds wasted. He had sprinted as fast as he could, so it was no surprise that when he collided with someone, he fell backwards onto the pavement.

"Oh, Jesus," said the person. "I'm sorry. I…" The man's voice trailed off. Then, he whispered, "_You_. I remember you…"

Sora looked up into the face of Ryan Hall.

"Oh, bastard," muttered Sora. "Where's your fucking friend Lea?"

"Lea?" asked Ryan. "I know no Lea. You beat the shit out of me last time we met, didn't you?"

"Not sure," said Sora, teeth grit. "But if not, I intend to right now. You're a part of the Organization."

"Call me crazy, pal, but I don't think you're supposed to know that." Roxas' eyes narrowed into deadly triangles. "I'd be careful how you talk to me. I've killed people before…I think."

"Want a medal? Where's Kairi?" Sora took out the Keyblade and raised it menacingly. "Where's Lea taken her?"

"I told you, I don't know any fucking Lea!" Ryan shouted back. Sora watched as the teenager pulled out two Keyblades of his own and clanged them both against each other, creating showers of sparks. Onlookers on the sidewalk looked in awe at this.

"So you're the one who attacked me before," snorted Sora. "Sorry to say I've grown since our last fight. I don't intend on drawing again."

Ryan laughed and said, "My man, I hardly know what the fuck you're talking about. I don't know any Kairi, and if you're looking for her, I feel ya'. My girl is in danger, too. I'm actually off to go meet her and my buddy. So why don't you just cool it?"

Sora laughed maniacally, "Oh, so _now_ you want me to just leave you alone? After you attacked my friends and me? You don't understand, Hall; you're the enemy, and you're coming with me."

"Like Hell," said Ryan, face darkening into that of Roxas'. He swung one of his Keyblades and Sora blocked the attack with his own.

"Round two?" breathed Sora. "Perhaps so."  
He moved forward, raising his blade for another attack, when a circle of fire went in between the two boys and slammed into the wall of the building they were in front of. The audience of the fight gasped as Axel walked into the fray, wearing his Organization robes like the Grim Reaper himself. With one chakram in the wall, the other blazing in his hand, Axel was an intimidating sight that caused many of the men and women surrounding them to go back to minding their own business.

"Now, now," said Axel. "Can't you two kiddies play nice?"

Sora spat, "Fuck you! Where is Kairi? Where've you taken her?"

Axel laughed maliciously. "Are you serious? _That's_ what this is about? Give it up, my dude. She's dead as a doornail. You're about to be the same, unless you step away from my friend and hand over the Keyblade."

Livid, Sora roared, "_Like hell_!" and moved towards Axel. The Member was surprised, and he dodged Sora's hasty attack, punching the young Keyblade-master in the back. Sora cried in pain and swung his blade around. Axel felt his torso cut and his belly underneath bleed. He looked down at the small slice, grimaced, then threw the chakram at Sora. Sora deflected it like a batter at a baseball game and the chakram went flying underneath a car, its fire put out.

"Damn you, kid," laughed Axel, casually walking over to get his other chakram in the wall.

"I got 'im, man," said Roxas, grinning. He moved forward, slashing furiously at Sora. Sora jumped out of the way of the assault, and the car he had been standing in front of was reduced to scrap metal. Sora delivered a kick to Roxas' diaphragm, and the boy doubled over. Taking advantage of the position, Sora kneed his adversary in the face, and Roxas fell backwards onto the sidewalk.

For a moment, Sora's chest roared with triumph that subsided in excruciating pain as Axel hit him with the side of a lit chakram. Sora stumbled back and hit the side of a taxi, but got right back up with murder in his eyes, death in his intentions, and coldness in his heart.

But Axel had helped his friend up, and now both were circling Sora like wolves surrounding their prey.

_Help_, Sora thought. _I need help_.

Suzie's Diner was too far away; Sora cursed himself for running so far. Which meant there was only one other option…

"Look, 'Axel'," said Sora, fighting to keep his voice calm. "Just tell me where she is. Please. I'm beggin' you, man."

Axel glowered at him. "After trying to kill me and my friend? Fuck you, Keyblader. I'm gonna kill you personally, right here and right now."

Sirens erupted as two police cars stopped on the sidewalk. Four officers emerged from the vehicles, all raising their guns at the three different freaks fighting on the street.

"Put your weapons down and your hands up!" one cop demanded. "All of you! Or we open fire!"

"Oh, no, don't do that!" mocked Axel. Roxas laughed with his friend.

That was it; Sora made a break for it down the sidewalk.

"_Hey_!" the cops and Organization Members shouted simultaneously.

Axel noticed that all four of the cops had mistakenly looked after Sora.

"Fools."

He threw his chakram at one of the police cars, and there was a tremendous explosion of heat and fire as the vehicle blew up. When the damage had been done, Axel collected both his chakrams while the cops burned to death in front of him.

"Let's get this fucker already!" said Roxas. He looked eager to do some damage, and Axel was glad to see some of his old friend resurfacing.

"Hell, yeah!" laughed Axel, and the two ran after their adversary.

Cloud and Namine sat inside Aqua's apartment, snuggled up on the couch and watching TV. Riku looked at them, jealousy stabbing every nerve within his heart. Although he liked the couple very much, despite Cloud's past history with Terra, Riku still felt a sort of contempt for their love…perhaps because he was never given a direct answer at his proposal. And so he watched them, studied them carefully from the kitchen, taking note of every mannerism Cloud acted out and imagining himself doing so with Aqua.

"I can't get over how much shit Aqua has here," Cloud called to Riku.

"I know, man, it's crazy. You should see the back rooms."

"Maybe I'll take a look."

"No," said Riku. "Don't do that. She'd get pissed."

"Something's telling me we won't be seeing her for a long time, actually," said Cloud casually. "But until she comes back, we have to stick together. She's given me protection, and you…what did she give you?"

Riku turned and looked out the apartment's window, and said, "Her. She gave me herself."

"Then I'd be quivering in your boots if I were you, man."

"I need time alone, I think. Stay out here, please. I want to look around the back rooms."

"Okey dokey, artichoke."

Riku laughed as he walked back, "No wonder you hated being a dealer, you're too fucking nice."

"I'd rather not have my son have an outlaw of a father."

"Daughter," corrected Namine.

"Son," said Cloud, smiling but with less conviction.

"Daughter," said Namine firmly.

Riku laughed again as he went into the back bedrooms of Aqua's apartment. One room that had caught his eye as he passed it last night was emptied out and full of cardboard boxes and piles of other things. Files, computers, all sorts of stuff. Now he rummaged through them, hoping to find some sort of clue, some way to find out what Aqua was thinking…like a diary.

He laughed aloud at the idea of "Someone" having a diary like a little schoolgirl.

Riku turned to leave the room, but tripped on something and fell over himself.

"Fuck!" he cried. He picked up what he had fallen over to throw it away, but saw, to his amazement, that it was a well-crafted piece of metal. It had been painted dark-red and dark-blue and the two colors entwined with one another through the metal rod, meeting at its hilt. The handle to it looked as though it were made of crystal.

It was a Keyblade.

"Holy God…" he whispered.

He felt a stinging in his hand as the Keyblade became one with him, pricking his palm and drawing blood. He swore again at the pain, but also because suddenly he was afraid.

Engraved on the hilt were letters carved into the Keyblade. They read _"Soul Eater"_.

Riku swung the blade, liking the feel of it. Oh, this was much more marvelous than wielding a pistol. He also noted the differences between this Keyblade and Sora's; Sora's was something wrapped in enigma, while this had its intentions put obvious: violence, bloodshed, life-taking. It was much sharper than Sora's as well, and resembled a sword more than a key in appearance.

He was surprised at how much this weapon seemed to define him in his current state of mind. Right now, being apart from the woman he loved, he felt as though his soul _was_ being eaten. In a way, this dark blade _was_ him, or at least a part of him. Like an extra limb of sorts.

Riku walked out of the room, swinging _Soul Eater_ around. The power felt good. It had been a while since he felt such control. Riku smiled, radiating good cheer. He suddenly wanted to crank some form of heavy metal as he swung this baby of his around. Laughing somewhat like a lunatic, he walked back towards the front section of the apartment, passing a window. However, as he passed he did a double-take and saw a familiar mop of brown hair below in front of the building.

"Sora?" Riku asked. Two men were following him, one in black robes. "Oh, shit."

Riku hurried through the apartment, not stopping for Cloud's "Riku, where are you going?", and down the flight of stairs to the lobby. Through the lobby, he met Sora.

"Sora!" cried Riku. "What're you _doing_ here, man?"

"Two…Organization…members…I'm…outnumbered…help…"

Riku looked up through the glass doors and saw the two making their way to the apartment building. He looked at Sora and said, "Sure thing, man. Two seconds ago I was hoping for some action."

Sora and Riku walked side-by-side outside into the gray city atmosphere, approaching the two Members who were also walking next to one another.

"Ah, we'll be killing two birds with one stone!" Axel cried happily. "I'm so flattered you did us such a favor, Sora."

Sora shook with hatred, but kept quiet. He readied his Keyblade for a fight. To his immense shock, however, Riku did the same with another, darker-looking Keyblade.

"Where the hell did you…?"

"Aqua's apartment," Riku explained. "She must've had it over the years, never realizing what it was. It bonded with me, though."

Sora shook his head, "No. I don't believe Aqua had that in her apartment any longer than an hour. Something put it there for you."

Riku shrugged. "If you say so. Either way, ready to mop the floor with these two?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Roxas laughed mockingly and moved towards Riku quickly. Sora himself charged at Axel, who readied himself for the attack, smiling as if he were dealing with a cranky toddler and not an agent hell-bent on killing him; the smile pissed Sora off big-time.

And then, like at the Delaware, something came over Sora again and he raised the Keyblade. This blast of energy was larger and more powerful, and Axel was flung off of his feet, landing painfully on his back and in the street. A car drove by and swerved loudly, trying to avoid running the pyro over. As Axel pulled himself up in a daze, too busy counting stars to fight, Sora ran over to aid his friend against Roxas.

Although Roxas had proved himself in battle before, Sora rarely saw Riku in action. Riku swung the Keyblade around like it was a practicing art he had years of experience in instead of happening to pick it up just a moment ago. Roxas was clearly overwhelmed by his opponent and eventually called it quits when Riku hit one of the blades out of the Member's hand, and then did so with the other. Roxas yelped and fell to the ground, crawling backwards, arm shielding his face.

"How?" he yelled at Riku. "How did you get the Keyblade?"

"Shut up," muttered Riku, raising _Soul Eater_ to end the Chaos Theorist once and for all.

"NO!" roared Sora, and pushed Riku aside, sparing Roxas' life.

"Sora, what the-?"

"They know where Kairi is!"

"What're you talking about?"

"The redhead kidnapped Kairi! They're a part of the Organization! If we kill them, we'll never find her!"

"Got that last part right," spat Axel; he was bleeding from the mouth and looked absolutely furious.

Sora raised the Keyblade at him again, "You tell us now, Axel. If you think I'm above killing you…" Suddenly, he had a chilling inspiration. Instead of pointing the Keyblade at Axel, he aimed it down at the hapless Roxas.

"Sora…" Axel breathed threateningly. "Think about this…"

"Tell me where Kairi is, or I will kill him," said Sora calmly.

"Sora…"

"I mean it, Axel. He means nothing to me at the moment. I might regret it later, but that's until I get the girl I love, dead _or_ alive. WHERE IS SHE?"

"C'mon, Sora! Think about this! It's just a girl, man!"

"It's not just a girl. I wouldn't expect people like you to understand. You're monsters, all of you, and she wanted to believe there was still some good."

"The world is cruel, Sora, you either admit that now or it will come crashin' on ya' when you least expect it. Got that memorized?"

"No," said Sora, and echoed his employer from the interrogation of Demyx. "That was never an excuse. Cruel the world might sometimes be, but it's how you react to it that makes the man, Axel. Which is why your Organization fails."

Axel gaped at him for a moment, as if his entire world had been turned upside-down at this remark…and perhaps it had.

"Where is Kairi?" demanded Sora again.

"I can't tell you," Axel said.

"Then Roxas here dies."

Sora turned his face back down to his hapless victim to find he was no longer there. Startled, Sora looked around only to be punched in the face and knocked down by Roxas, who was up and ready to fight again.

"No!" yelled Axel. "Roxas! It's time to go! Let's move, man!"

Roxas barked back, "I can take him!"

"Not now! Come on!"

The two made a break for it across the busy city street. Sora ran after them, ignoring Riku's screaming protests. The two Members had almost made it across the street without incident until Roxas tripped and fell over onto the sidewalk. Axel picked him up and they ran into a nearby alleyway.

Sora began to run after when a truck, honking madly, drove right in front of him, almost hitting him. When it had passed, Sora ran forward to the alleyway, only to find the two were no longer there.

"_FUCK!_" he screamed and punched the wall of the building in front of him, furious. He turned back, fuming, to find that Roxas had left something on the ground when he fell.

It was a small cell phone.

And it was ringing.

Frowning, Sora picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Roxas?"

"Who's this?"

"Who is _this_?"

"A friend of Roxas'."

The voice on the other end of the phone sounded amused. "A friend of Roxas'?"

"Yes. Can I take a message?"

"Sure."

"Alright, go ahead; shoot."

"My message is: 'You are a fool to keep pestering us, Sora O'Reilly. And you will lose.' Did you get that?"

Sora's hands shook with a mixture of fear and fury. Which was more dominant, however, he was not sure.

"Friend of Roxas? Did you get that?" Xehanort persisted mockingly.

Sora said, surprisingly calmly, "We're going to stop you. All of you."

"They squealed like pigs when they died, y'know. Your parents. And your mother was with child. You were going to be a big brother."

"I'm either going to put you in jail or kill you, but either way…your end is coming. Soon. I assure you. I'm going to track the rest of you down, and get rid of them one by one until you're by yourself. Do you hear me?"

Silence.

"I said do you hear me, Christopher?"

"Of course I hear you, m'boy."

"Anything to say to that?"

"Just one thing."

"And that is?"

Xehanort chuckled mildly and said, "Good luck."

Dialtone.

Angered, teeth clenched, Sora threw the cell phone onto the ground and smashed it into bits and pieces. Onlookers avoided him, walked around him.

Riku caught up and grabbed onto Sora's shoulder.

"Where'd they go?"

"Gone. Both of 'em."

"They have her?"

"Yes."

"What're we gonna do?"

Sora walked down the sidewalk, holstering his Keyblade.

"What do you think?" he called back to Riku. "Find the girl I love."

Appalled, Riku watched his friend walk away. Then, he turned back to Aqua's apartment building; he had to talk to Cloud.

* * *

Kairi was one-fourth of a way from freeing her right hand from the cuff that had been placed on her. Her heart racing with the fear of Axel returning to find her freeing herself slightly in some way, she struggled quickly.

The imbecile had left his phone on the dresser near the bed. If she could free one hand, she could reach the phone and call Sora. She worked tirelessly, thinking about him, his bravery and kindness, the modesty of the person she loved…and the pleasures they had shared. Oh, God, if she were to ever escape from this prison she would make love to Sora so hard that he would feel like he'd been thrown off of a cliff into a pool of paradise.

There was a small clock above the door. It read _3:44 PM._

Kairi worked harder.

4:32 PM

Cloud was standing in the doorway to the bathroom when Riku reentered Aqua's apartment. Namine was bent over the toilet, vomiting as quietly as she could. Riku stared at Cloud for a long time, feeling that longing rise in his chest again as he thought about being able to do the exact same thing with Aqua.

"What's eating you?" Cloud asked.

Riku sighed. "I need you to help me."

Cloud nodded absently. "Anything you need. I'm here for you."

"You have to tell me where Aqua is."

Cloud frowned. "I can't do that, Riku."

"Why not?" Riku asked. "This is important. I need to know where she is."

Cloud frowned, glancing at a table that sat on the other side of the room. A little velvet box sat on top of it, and he knew exactly what was inside. He just wasn't sure if Riku had seen it yet. He didn't want to feel responsible for the breaking of the young man's heart, for he had not seen a diamond on Aqua's finger when he had spoken to her last.

"Cloud," Riku said. "I'm not going to do anything stupid, I promise. I just need to talk to her. Please, it's really important."

"Riku?" Cloud asked after a few moments. "What were you doing the last time you were with Aqua?"

Riku blushed. "Well, I was…"

"Fucking?"

Riku blushed harder. "Yeah, so?"

"Did you propose to her?"

Riku frowned. "Yeah, I did. How do you know?"

Cloud stared at the velvet box, and Riku followed his eyes with his own and felt his heart drop when he saw the little box on the table. He didn't really get this peculiar feeling as he stepped up to the table and picked up the small box. And he didn't really think too hard about what he had done the night before, but, for some reason, he was sad.

"Please be empty," Riku whispered, holding the box tightly. "Please be empty…"

Cloud could feel the sudden sadness drowning the room in misery as Riku opened the little box and found the glittering ring nestled within. Namine took Cloud's hand and squeezed it as she frowned in sympathy. Riku stared at the ring for a long time without saying anything. Suddenly, his whole life had no meaning anymore.

He had officially been rejected.

"Riku…"

Riku looked up at Cloud in a daze. He blinked slowly, feeling a wave of urgency wash over him. "Where is she?"

"Dude," Cloud said. "Aqua was taken by the cops. I don't know if they arrested her or what, but she's gone. I don't know where she is."

Riku tensed. "Where did you see her last?"

Cloud frowned. "Come on, man, just let her be. She'll find you when she's ready."

Riku growled at him. "I don't want to hear that! Tell me where she is!"

Cloud took a deep breath. "I saw her in the subway, but that was yesterday. I have no idea where she is now. There's no telling where she is. It's fucking New York City. She could be anywhere. And she could have just left the country."

Riku felt so lost, not being able to think clearly anymore. He could feel numbers starting to surface again, but he was so angry with himself, he forced the numbers to the back of his mind with enough fervor to rip them from his skull. And he was just about to run, but then something peculiar happened.

_Shift…_

There was fog. Lots of fog. It was white, and it felt heavy, like it had suddenly come from some far away land that didn't belong. He was standing on the corner of two roads, neither of which was in New York City, and he was alone.

It felt far too real to be such a surreal environment. Almost like he didn't quite belong yet. Like he was too early for something. Riku looked around, but couldn't hear or see anybody. He could just barely make out the faint outline of a bridge above him, and he could hear the faint rumbling of a train in the distance.

"Hello?" Riku called.

"Shut up!"

Riku spun around. In a nearby tree, a young man was sitting on one of the higher branches, carrying a gun. He was wrapped in white fabric, like a modern ninja, but he looked panicked and scared.

"Do you want them to hear us?"

Riku frowned. "Where am I?"

The man frowned and gently lowered himself to the ground. Other than the slight puffs of his exertion and the rumble of a distant train, it was silent. The man looked around constantly, searching for something. A sign that they had been heard or seen.

"We're in Jersey," the man whispered. "But keep it down. They'll hear us, and then there'll be Hell to pay."

Riku started. "Who's out there?"

The man put his finger to his lips. "Not who. What."

Riku blinked stupidly. "What's out there?"

"I've heard only stories about what they actually are," the man said. "I've only heard that they are faster than us, smarter than us, bigger than us. But, I've never seen them."

Riku tensed. "Then how can you know?"

The man paused. "Have you ever just felt something so powerful that you know it to be true?"

Riku didn't answer but knew exactly what the man was talking about. He relaxed a little, but there was this sudden fear in his heart as he heard distant screams and the sound of rapid gunfire. The man beside him had run and climbed back into his tree, still staying as quiet as he possibly could. Riku hadn't even noticed he had been abandoned until he was knocked off his feet.

He couldn't quite see what had hit him. But, he flipped over and scrambled to his feet, trying to escape from whatever it was that was out there. He ran straight, and whenever he heard people scream, he turned away from it. His tired pants were soon accompanied by the sound of stiff clicks and hisses, and he was tripped.

He crashed to the pavement once again, but he had landed on something soft. He paled when he saw the darker markings of some creature he had never seen before, and he nearly died right there when it swiveled its head around and opened its mouth. Jagged teeth protruded from its flesh, and Riku could see that the darker markings was actually blood, and he did not for one second believe that it wasn't human.

The first thing that came to him was blind panic. He had never been so scared before, and he jumped to his feet and ran in whatever direction his mind told him to. He collided with a glass door, and it shattered without resistance. Riku didn't think as he climbed through the new hole and ran up the stairs. He didn't even look back to see if the creature had been following him. He just ran.

As soon as he reached the top of the stairs and barreled through a second set of glass doors, he found himself on a platform. There was a metal bench in the middle of the platform, and sitting in one of the seats was a man wearing a tuxedo. Riku instantly recognized him, but didn't have the same feeling as he had last time. Last time, he had been preoccupied with thinking, but now he felt nothing but fear.

The man looked up at him.

"Oh, you are here."

Riku looked behind him. "What happened?"

"I see you have a Keyblade now."

Riku pulled out Soul Eater. The man clicked his teeth disapprovingly. Riku frowned. "What is this?"

The man stood and brushed himself off. "You were fine the way you were. Why would you interfere? Has our last conversation taught you nothing?"

Riku heard glass shatter from downstairs and he instantly turned around, wielding his Keyblade, terrified. He couldn't hear anything past the thudding of his heart. Even the tuxedoed man's voice wasn't really getting through to him.

"Acknowledge and move on," the man said. "Acknowledge and move on. You still haven't done anything."

Riku nearly fainted as he saw the creatures make their way up the steps. They seemed to be messing around with one another, sniping at each other's feet in grotesque play.

"This is not how it's supposed to happen."

"What are you talking about?" Riku cried.

The tuxedoed man sighed. "I suppose this is what must happen then." He looked down. "So be it."

"What's going on?"

The tuxedoed man stepped to Riku's side and clasped his shoulder. He looked very troubled, and seemed to be saddened by what he was seeing, though he did not show any signs of fear. Riku trembled.

"Some things are better off forgotten."

_Shift…_

Riku was still. He felt strange, and he kept his eyes closed even though his body was still filled with a blind panic. He couldn't remember why he was so scared, just that he was, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Stop being so afraid."

Riku moaned softly. "I can't help it. I'm just so helpless."

"What happened to you ridding the world of all the evil? Do you not feel the same way anymore?"

Riku swallowed slowly.

"What happened to you?"

"She rejected me."

"The Free God?"

Riku was silent.

"She was not meant to have anyone. She is only supposed to do for herself. She is God. She doesn't need you to love her. She already has so many who do."

"No, Aqua's not like that," Riku growled. "She's different."

"You don't know anything about her. She is much more powerful than you think. And, I'm sure she is the one who did this to you."

"She didn't do anything."

"She ate your soul."

Riku didn't answer. He didn't want to believe what the voice was telling him. He could recognize it, for it felt more familiar than even Sora's voice. It felt like it belonged in his head, like he had known it his whole life. This voice brought calmness about his mind, and that blind panic dissolved into peaceful enlightenment.

"Please, acknowledge and move on. It will be the only way you can fix what is wrong. Remember what we talked about last. Acknowledge and move on. Before you forget why you're here."

Riku opened his eyes, and was blinded by otherworldly light. He closed his eyes quickly, feeling at home once again in the cool darkness. His skin warmed and he could hear distant voices calling his name, but they were strange. Wrapped in codes that only he could understand. He let his body become enveloped in this warmth, and drifted away.

_Shift…_

"Riku? Riku!"

Cloud had panicked when Riku had first fallen to the floor. He had rushed to his side, and picked him up while Namine gathered some water and towels. Cloud panicked, for he thought Riku had died right there.

"Riku!" Cloud yelled. "Please, answer me."

Riku remained still. He was floating in his strange new world, being instructed by the voice of the tuxedoed man. He couldn't hear Cloud's desperate attempts to wake him, and this made Cloud more and more desperate.

"Riku!"

"What's going on here?"

Cloud turned. Aqua was standing in the doorway. She looked slightly put off, but more because of the stress she had been putting on herself than the fact that Riku appeared to be incapacitated. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance.

"Aqua!"

Cloud stood up. Aqua stepped inside, but didn't bother to check Riku. She side stepped Cloud and disappeared into a back room. For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of tumbling boxes, and soft curses. Cloud resisted the urge to go after her. He was angry that she didn't show he slightest bit of concern for the man she had paid him to protect. But, he had to do something. He didn't want Riku's heart to be broken.

"Why are you leaving him?"

Aqua stopped her rifling and looked up. "That's none of your business. I paid you to protect him. You don't ask questions."

"You're making a big mistake," Cloud said bristling. "He's never going to forgive you."

Aqua smiled briefly. "Well, I guess I'll have to deal with that later then. I have things I need to take care of right now, and they didn't involve babysitting a child. That's what I hired you for."

"So, you don't care about him at all?"

Aqua tensed. "Cloud, don't you patronize me. You have no idea what it is I do. I do not think Riku is just a child, but he is. That's what he is, and you know as well as I do that he'll do something stupid to prove a point. I'll come back one day maybe, but for now, I need to worry about other things besides the feelings of a stupid teenager."

Cloud was silent. "There are people who truly care about him."

"Did you know he tried to propose to me?" Aqua said. "Did you know that he was willing to throw his whole life away to stay with me? Do you have any idea how hard it would be on him to be my husband?"

Cloud frowned. "You're selfish."

Aqua glanced at him. "I know. In so many more ways than you think. But, I can't let everything I worked so hard for slip away so easily. Call it karma. I already know I'll never have a normal life."

Cloud puffed out his chest. "I'm not going to let you destroy him."

Aqua frowned. "Fine. Do what you want, but don't get mad when the consequences catch up with you."

"Is that a threat?"

"That's a promise."

Aqua stood up after gathering several files and stuffing them into her messenger bag. Cloud didn't stop her as she passed him and left her apartment. He had been hired to protect Riku, and he intended to do just that, even if it meant betraying the woman who was going to give him everything he needed. He sat on the couch with Riku, hoping that he would wake soon. He was going to help him get away from Aqua.

No matter what.

5:03 PM

It was rush hour. Even in the sky, there was endless traffic. People flowed in and out of the airport, talking loudly, smiling, laughing and carrying on. Aqua resented every one of them. She traveled through the terminal, reliving the last time she had been alone in an airport.

Even though Isa had sent his bodyguards, she had still been taken by Diz. Taken, and dragged away while everyone was concerned with their own destinations, put on display for the world to see. But, Riku and Isa's interference prevented that. Aqua shuttered quietly. She had almost been caught.

Almost.

Just like she was almost killed by the former Heartless leader, she almost lost her empire, and she almost gave it up willingly. But now, she was confused about what she absolutely wanted to do. She couldn't live in the realm of "almost" anymore. She had to make solid decisions that no longer affected just her side of the country. And it was going to start with Zack.

Was she really that selfish? Was she really so selfish that she would have a child with a man she didn't know, just so she could keep her hands on the scepters of power? Would she really give up the only chance she would ever have to lead a normal life?

Aqua didn't have the time to think about what she wanted, for a quick tap on the shoulder drew her mind back to the present. She should have felt some kind of apprehension as she turned around. She should have been more on point, more focused. It wasn't like this was the first time something had threatened her empire.

"Angelina Godfrey?"

She shouldn't have answered. She should have looked confused; she should have been insulted, or scared. Anything other than what she did.

Aqua frowned. "Yes?"

Before her stood Mick and Officer Everett. They both had their arms crossed, faces scrunched in tight scowls. Aqua realized her mistake a soon as she made it, but knew it was far too late to change her mind.

Mick cracked a smile. "I finally found you."

Aqua narrowed her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Mick arched eyebrow. "You don't? Angelina Godfrey? The Free God? Aqua? You don't recognize any of those titles?"

Officer Everett opened his mouth, but Mick stopped him. Aqua was tempted to run, but she knew she wasn't going to make it. She was tired, and unfocused. She had to stick to her guns, stay calm. Like usual. No quick movements.

"Would you mind coming with us?" Mick asked. "I think it would be better if we had a little privacy, don't you?"

Aqua nodded and, seeing no other choice, followed Mick and Everett into a small room just out of the way. She once again felt that fear and hopelessness that she had when Diz was dragging her by her hair. Mick closed the door behind them. The only thing in the small room was a single chair and a metal table. Aqua was forcibly reminded of an interrogation room.

"So, let's get down to business," Mick said. "I wanna make a deal with you. Off the books."

Aqua laughed. "I have no idea what you're talking about, _former_ Senator."

Mick motioned for Aqua to sit down, but she refused and he leaned in her face. "I can pay whatever your price is." He smirked briefly. "Name it."

Aqua laughed again. "Michael? If I may be blunt. If I was the person you were looking for, I wouldn't be interested."

Mick frowned. "Why not?"

Aqua suddenly became serious. More serious than Mick had been expecting and he gasped softly at her twist in demeanor. "Because you don't have anything I want."

"I can get whatever you need," Mick assured. "So long as you are willing to trade."

Aqua took a seat and smoothed her hair back nonchalantly. This motion alone made Mick very ticked off. He hated her arrogance, and her air of superiority, even though he knew she could have him killed if he didn't play his cards right. He was instantly reminded of Terra and wanted so badly to end her. But, he couldn't. She was a big fish. One that could not get away.

Aqua folded her hands together and rested her chin on her fingers. "I'll think about it. But, I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now. I'm a little busy."

Mick groaned audibly. "I don't want this to turn violent now."

"Neither do I," Aqua said. "But, you could not have come at a more inconvenient time, Michael. I would be more than willing to shoulder your debt, but I'm busy."

Mick tensed. Aqua stood up and stared at him, her mood seeming to change with the wind. Mick opened his mouth, but Aqua pressed her fingers to his lips.

"I will be willing to meet when you have something of value. I already have money, connections, drugs, sex, and everything else I could possibly want. You can't offer me anything that I can't already get for myself." Aqua moved away. "I will be leaving now."

Mick grabbed her from behind and spun her around. Aqua didn't speak, but she groaned in pain as Mick forced her face onto the cool metal table. He was harsh, and had probably been too forceful. But, Aqua only laughed. It was chilling, and it raised the hair on the back of his neck.

"Michael, you are not a very good negotiator," Aqua said. "This is not how you get what you want." She chuckled more. "Don't you for one second believe that you are going to bully me through brute force. I do not bend to another man's will. Believe me, former Senator."

Mick leaned on her. "Shut the fuck up, Aqua. I'm going to make my demands. Then we'll see who is a bad negotiator."

Aqua huffed as Mick forced the air out of her lungs. "Go ahead, see where that gets you."

Mick pushed away from Aqua as Everett pulled him slightly. He looked concerned. "Sir, we need her alive. Just take it easy, okay? We got this."

Aqua stood up again, though slightly weakened, and grinned. "Good cop? Bad cop?"

Mick forced himself to calm down. Aqua watched him with mild interest, and her attitude got under his skin. He furrowed his brow. "I want two things from you."

"That's a little better," Aqua said, folding her arms. "We'll see. Maybe you do have something I want."

Mick relaxed a little more, but he could sense something was amiss, though what it was he couldn't quite tell. He eyed Aqua warily. "First, I want to know everything you know about Lea Conrad. Including his current whereabouts."

Aqua smiled softly. "And?"

Mick paused. "I want Riku."

Aqua smiled and chuckled under her breath. "My, we certainly want a lot, don't we?"

"What do you want in return?" Mick asked.

"Oh, it's not that simple, Michael." Aqua chided. "You can't just make demands and then expect something to happen. That's not how it works."

"Enlighten me," Mick said tersely.

"Your sarcasm is not welcome," Aqua answered. "Let me put it nicely. You don't have enough to pay me."

"What do you want?"

Aqua thought for a second. "I want the idea of freedom. And that's just not something you can give me. So, you have to choose one."

Mick growled. "How could you ask me to do that?"

"Well," Aqua pursed her lips in mock innocence. "Which one is more important to you right now?"

"That's not fair," Mick whispered.

"I don't deal with what's fair." Aqua smiled. "But, choose one now, and maybe we can work something out for the future."

Mick frowned. "Lea…where is he?"

Aqua shrugged. "I haven't seen Lea in years. Honestly, I have no idea. But, I guarantee that he's somewhere in the city. Give me an hour, and you'll have his exact location."

Mick nodded. "What do you want in return?"

Aqua smiled briefly. "I'll let that one slide for now."

"Why?" Mick frowned. "I'm not going to be in debt to you."

Aqua laughed. "Because, the payment for your second request will not be what you think. You might not like me afterwards."

Mick looked at her, but didn't do anything. He was going to bide his time, even though it was running out at record speeds. "And?"

Aqua sniffed, feeling emotion bubble into her words. Mick could hear it as well, but a sudden, angry, business-geared person emerged from Aqua's soul, once again throwing Mick off guard.

"You can have him back," Aqua said. "I would only get him killed eventually anyway, but you won't have him until I break him down."

"What? Break him?" Mick sputtered.

Aqua nodded. "You came here for my help, and now I'm going to give it to you. You do not get to decide how it gets done." She paused. "You will get him back as soon as I make him completely disconnected from his feelings for me. You won't like how he turns out, but what you want is an agent who will work to the best of his ability for you. Someone who can detach from the hardships of life."

"You can't hurt him…"

"I assure you I will not hurt him," Aqua said. "I'm only going to break his heart. I don't want do. But…then you owe me. And that's worth a whole Hell of a lot more than anything you would have offered. Now, if I may leave now?"

Mick stepped to the side, as did Everett, and Aqua glided past them with a renewed confidence in her step. Mick couldn't believe he had made such a deal, but he couldn't afford not to. Time was running out, and they were not any closer to finding Kairi on their own. This was a necessary sacrifice, one that Mick alone would pay dearly for. Aqua stopped briefly.

"You will have what you need within the hour, Michael." Aqua hung her head slightly. "I'm only giving you what you want. I will alert you to my requests at a later time. I'm sorry you suck at negotiation, otherwise you would have gotten a better deal."

Mick grunted in disapproval.

"Don't worry about Riku. He's young. He'll get over it."

Mick frowned as Aqua left the room. Everett remained silent, feeling like if he had spoken he would have made things worse. Mick dwelled on Aqua's last words. Riku really _was _young. Would he get over losing Aqua after working so hard to get her? Would he _really _get over it?

Mick wasn't so sure.

* * *

**Well, there you have it. I bet you can't guess who wrote what. Ha ha. But, I have a lot of work to do now. So, until next time.**

**Has a nice day, from the both of us. :)  
**


	27. Re: The Hotel

**This is it. It all ends here. But, in wake of an ending comes a new beginning, and a new beginning is full of countless possibilities. **

**Enjoy the ride.**

* * *

_8:13 PM _

The music of Club 69 (the pun was _very_ much intended in this case) pounded loudly in Xigbar's ears as he sat at the bar and drank from a glass bottle of Bud. He was there by himself which had succeeded him in getting numerous strange glances, some of them unwary and others seductive. He wondered, amused, if girls found freaky assassins wearing eye patches "sexy" these days. It wouldn't surprise him one bit.

The club was a very typical club. Dark blue walls, lack of normal light sources, flashing disco balls, half-naked men and women, the annoying dance moves of rubbing against one another obnoxiously infesting the dance floor. What had really bugged Xigbar, though, were the outfits of desperate attention-whoring. Girls exposing so much cleavage, guys wearing tight polo shirts…as a former member of the Italian mob located in Little Italy, these kinds of outfits bugged Xigbar immensely. There was no honor in it. To him, a girls looked beautiful in dresses or gowns. To him, girls dressed like these women looked like sluts. Walking, festering cesspools of STDs that bled and sweat the semen of strangers and oozed other sexual odors.

They justified their behaviors as "having a good time". Xigbar knew it was merely the sport of imbeciles. A good time could be had in any _other_ situation. These people were the physical incarnations of the idiots found on television, and they offered nothing to society. They were consumers to an extent. The lack of chivalry was frightening to the assassin. If the whole world had been run by these retards, he would surely kill himself.

A short girl with a ridiculous-looking hairdo that seemed to include too much hair gel came up to him and started doing an even _more_ preposterous dance that Xigbar could only assume was her trying to be attractive.

"Hey there, Mr. Pirate," she groaned to him; he almost puked at the warm smell of chicken and beer her breath had been tainted with. "Wanna buy me a drink?"

"No money on me."

"Aww." She sat on his lap and ran her long fingers through his hair. "Well why don't we go to my place and get baked? Maybe we can…I dunno…fool around…" She moved closely towards him, her eyes closed, her mouth twitching.

Xigbar furiously threw her off of him. She landed on the floor face-first. Blood spurted from her nose. She looked at him and screamed, "_YOU FUCK! I'LL FUCK YOU UP! YOU JUST WAIT!_". Xigbar watched her pout all the way over to her friends, who all stared at him from across the bar.

However, Xigbar didn't necessarily care in any way, shape, or form any longer, for he had just spotted his target.

Amongst the dancers of Club 69 was a man in a black suit with a red tie. His hair was graying, yet he was dancing with possibly two of the prettiest (and equally sluttiest) girls in the club. This was the current District Attorney, Eddie Gargan. In the past summer, Gargan had paid for twenty different prostitutes, had fourteen experiences with marijuana, and countless accounts of firing people under him who he did not like. The man was fifty-three years-old, corrupt, and a rather pathetic excuse for a human being. He treated the city like it was his playground when it was certainly anything but.

However, the main reason why Gargan was being tracked by Xigbar tonight was not because of his corruptness. In fact, Xigbar could give less than a shit if Gargan was a corrupt D.A. What Gargan was being tracked for was his knowledge of Xehanort.

Technically, the Big Guy was not supposed to exist. Somehow, like the fucking ghoul that he was, he had kept himself looking the same age for many years. In order to start an Organization to breed a virus in order to genocide humanity, Christopher Xehanort needed to disappear. Completely. All records of him had been deleted, and, according to historical documents, he had died in a plane crash many years ago.

Gargan, who had known Xehanort from his days as a public scientist, recognized Xehanort on Seaside Heights the other day. Spooked, Gargan planned to write a letter to the White House concerning this. The letter would be sent tomorrow.

Xigbar watched and waited until the old man got tired enough to sit down. Then, without warning, the D.A. stood up to leave; apparently, the girl he was pursuing had moved on to the next drunken moron…or so Xigbar had thought. The assassin then realized that there was a man from the local TV news station that had just walked in; if Gargan was to be found here by the media, his career would finally be in the shitter.

He deserved a hell of a lot more than that.

Gargan, with the cunningness of a silky-furred feline, made his way to the back entrance of Club 69. Xigbar stood up after a swig of beer and followed the District Attorney.

The back entrance led to a narrow stone stairwell into an alley, with only one light illuminating the area. Small moths and bugs buzzed around this blue-ish light, and Gargan swatted at them as he hurried down the stone steps and onto the pavement of the alleyway.

Xigbar followed his target into the darkness like he was the man's shadow, using the dark surroundings as his tools for the kill. From its holster, he pulled out the grand architect.

"Mr. Gargan!"

Gargan turned and Xigbar shot him three times in the torso, each shot accompanied with a loud retort that echoed in the dark alley. The District Attorney looked at his killer, wide-eyed. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that spilled out was blood. The D.A. gave one last choke and fell backwards onto the pavement.

Xigbar walked forward and shot the man again in the chest, just to make sure he was over with. Gargan did not jerk at the bullet's impact.

The job had been done.

After holstering the pistol in his arm-holster, Xigbar found the nearest street, hailed a taxi, and got himself driven to a rather impressive-looking Italian restaurant in SoHo. He went into the building and found both Xehanort and Saix sitting at a table next to the window, sipping on champagne.

"Xigbar!" called Xehanort happily. "Over here, m'friend!"

The assassin grinned and walked over. The place was half-empty, and he admired the Boss' ability to find enigmatic places to go to when in public.

"Hello, Sir. Saix." Xigbar rarely referred to Saix as "Superior". In Xigbar's humble opinion, Member II did not deserve to be looked down upon by some control freak with a planet fetish.

"Hi Xigbar," said Saix, grinning. "I guess we're the only three today, huh?"

"Indeed."

"Actually," said Xehanort sadly. "That's why I've brought you two here. I've just been informed that not only has Xaldin perished, but also Luxord and Lexaeus. Each one has been, in a way, killed by former-Senator Mick Mouse, the Keyblader, and their alliances. At first I thought they were just a minor nuisance, but it seems they've greatly damaged the Organization."

"Lexaeus _and_ Luxord?" asked Xigbar sharply.

"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry, Two. But you must have known that there would be some sacrifices in our ventures. Did you truly believe that all thirteen of us would make it out alive?"

"No. But it seems that the agents took out two important factors of us: our finance and our muscle."

"My friend, any _one_ of us having been killed would've been the loss of an important factor! That's why this is all very risky."

"Three dead," Saix worried. "That leaves ten of us. Do we change our titles?"

"Nonsense. It shall always be Organization XIII; Luxord and Lexaeus and Xaldin shall always be with us in spirit. I cannot bear to imagine what it would be like to forget them or, worse, replace them."

"Hear, hear," muttered Xigbar, taking the champagne bottle and pouring himself some.

Xehanort continued: "But this isn't about just the mourning of the deaths of our friends. This is about what to do with their killers. Sora O'Reilly, Kairi O'Cooper, Don Basilicata, Gerald Sicily, and occasionally Angelina Godfrey's lapdog, Riku Hannon. I know all of them, yes, but I'm unable to locate any of them or trace them back to a specific location. Mouse has a lot more control over things than I had at first believed. The point I am trying to make is…this group of people cannot be my main focus at this point in time. It must be the responsibility of other Members to take care of this, with the exceptions of Vexen and possibly Zexion.

"Which means you're going to need some background. Saix, give Xigbar a piece of paper and pen. Good. You two are going to write down the things I say.

"Riku Hannon. Riku was born in an orphanage either eighteen or nineteen years ago. After escaping the place at age six, he lived off of the streets with other homeless men and women, a time in which he learned how to successfully fend for himself through crime. Eventually, as an early teen, Hannon was picked up by Terra Hopsfield, a lieutenant in an empire owned by Angelina Godfrey. Riku worked with Terra for a brief amount of time until Terra was given power in D.C. Riku worked for the rest of Godfrey's empire by smuggling goods from the Hudson River, and going on certain tasks as an agent. I've been informed he has a strong attraction towards Godfrey, which is possibly why he joined with Senator Mouse in the Anti-Heartless-movement.

"Gerald Sicily. Sicily is forty-two, a fighter in recent wars, and a master of certain types of organized and dirty fighting. Goes by the nickname 'Goofy' though the origin of this alias is unknown. Got into the FBI twelve years ago, a position in which he became friends with Senator Mouse. Eventually, Mouse hired him as his private agent along with Basilicata.

"Donald Basilicata. Also forty-two, also a former soldier, and also a former FBI-agent. Don's wife and daughter were both killed by the Heartless prior to joining Mouse's cause due to his outspoken nature against them.

"Kairi O'Cooper attended the same high school as our very own Zexion and Roxas. She's younger than the former, older than the latter. Graduated with top marks, and instantly went to school for politics in hopes of making a better world. Caught the eyes of Mouse not too long ago, and she became a co-agent with Hannon.

"Sora O'Reilly. Sixteen year-old high school dropout, at least I believe so since his involvement in all this. Joined with Mouse after Marluxia, Vexen, and Demyx took his parents in for studying. You should know the rest.

"Okay, so…any questions?"

Xigbar cleared his throat loudly. Both men looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, Two?" asked Xehanort politely. "You have a concern?"

"I do, sir. Forgive me, but what the fuck are we _doing_? Have either of you actually assessed the situation we're in right now currently? The Organization shouldn't have time to play tag with a bunch of fucking children. However, so far, these morons Mick's employed have killed three of us. THREE of us. Three valued members of the Organization. But that's not necessarily what baffles me.

"What baffles me is the fact that all of this could have been avoided, we could have had those three _friends_ back, if you and those two numbfuck scientists you employed had merely returned O'Reilly's parents. You took a mother and father from a child, a severe act of unnecessary cruelty, and you know what? I think, ever since then, we've _deserved_ the problems that we are encountering. With our overconfidence we have wrongly believed that we can do whatever we want in this period of time, when we cannot.

"Furthermore, why are we dedicating our lives to destroying these people? Why not just live and let live?"

"They killed our _friends_!" hissed Saix, careful not to alert anyone within the restaurant.

"In the case of Lexaeus and Xaldin, _we_ _led them _to their deaths!" replied Xigbar sharply. "Luxord's fall was a tragic accident that occurred because he was, despite our past friendship, a drunken moron. All three cases, Mick's agents were there. Two-out-of-three, Sora O'Reilly witnessed them and was partly responsible. The boy whose innocence we forcibly stripped."

Coldly, Saix said, "Perhaps we _should've_ had that meeting with the Trusted, Number Two. Apparently you don't have the stomach we thought you did."

"On the contrary, you stupid fuck," growled Xigbar. "I'm thinking of our likely chances of survival which, at this point, have been questionable. We've been parading around like enigmatic gods when we've accomplished nothing to deserve this other than breeding a virus that has the potentiality to either fail or destroy us along with the human race. We need to get back on track. Furthermore, _Hoffman_, if I wanted your opinion, I would ask for it. I'm talking to the Superior. You must know of him; he hired me before you."

Saix looked as if Xigbar had just splashed his glass of champagne on him and cursed him in forgotten tongues.

Xehanort, however, looked expressionless. He was thinking, and by the look in his eyes, Xigbar guessed he was thinking hard.

Xigbar spoke again, equally as courageous as he did before, "If you consider such logic blasphemy, since that seems to be how we're treating this entire operation, then I will gladly resign from the Organization. If that also means I am to die, which it probably will mean, then you might as well shoot me here and now. If anything, I've earned a cleaner death than to be sodomized and mutilated by Marla fucking Shift. I have a gun in my pocket; we can go out back and you can kill me there."

Saix's mouth dropped and his eyes widened. He turned to his Superior, yet Xehanort was only looking in that thoughtful manner again. Although quiet, the Superior almost seemed to _hum_, like a machine executing a thousand of equations with relative ease due to a supreme calculation.

Then, Xehanort spoke softly: "Xigbar is right, Saix. We have been too overconfident in our exploits. We've acted less like scientists and more like prophets to a cause that needs our serious attention." He looked at Xigbar. "I apologize, my friend. I apologize that this entire system has been seemingly run by fear. If you truly believed you would have died for speaking your mind, I do not know where to even begin with my apology. Please, from one professional to another…forgive me."

A bit taken aback, Xigbar spoke, "Yes, sir. I forgive you. I apologize for being so harsh."

"Nonsense. You had to be.

"Now, why don't we put these matters aside and order some salads to start us off? I hope to God they have Italian dressing…"

He smiled at Xigbar.

Xigbar smiled back.

And then the assassin knew why he had stayed; because he loved the Superior like a father, and that was one thing, no matter how political things got, that was never going to change.

* * *

_9:02 PM_

_ Although Sora was currently unaware of it, he was dreaming. _

_ In the dream he was older and with Kairi. Both of them were holding one another on a cruise ship. His subconscious laughed at this cliché, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. They hugged and watched the sun set over the blue horizon of the endless sea they were upon. Riku came over, and he was older as well. He was with the nameless girl he "loved", who for once in her life looked happy. They stood together, two couples, finding peace and happiness at last. The "camera" (the position from which the dreaming Sora watched) of the dream zoomed in on Sora and Kairi as they smiled at each other. Kairi leaned in for a kiss…_

_ All Hell broke loose._

_ From the waters came a man clothed in black. He was walking on the water, the perfect Anti-Christ. Although no one said a word, Sora felt that the stranger was incredibly intelligent, cold and calculating, a creature. _

_ The man hopped onto the ship, and went straight for Kairi, vicious glee in his eyes…_

Sora awoke with a yelp in Mick's penthouse. He was there alone, waiting for some sort of lead on Kairi's whereabouts, and resting after the fight with Axel and Roxas. Riku was gone, and Mick was out preparing a plane or something with the rest of the group. He walked towards one of the windows of the penthouse and looked out into the beautifully-lit city streets.

Kairi remained in the hands of killers.

Such an acknowledgement would've brought the old Sora to tears, but now all he felt was intense anger and worry. If the Organization carelessly killed Kairi like they did his parents, he would truly have no purpose to live other than to continue on until he ripped off the rest of their heads or die trying. Twice, now, these people had taken loved ones from him. The first time was what had started this adventure. The second would…

…end it?

He considered this possibility. If there was truly a cycle to all things in the universe, then this kidnapping would lead to either his demise or Kairi's…or both of theirs. He prayed it wasn't Kairi who would pay.

Many times he had tried to justify the Organization's actions. Whether or not influenced by the Keyblade, Sora was still just a teenager, and his heart was not as cold and relentless as his adversaries' were…if it ever came to that, he would be a lost cause. Thousands of different scenarios swam within his imagination, trying to conjure up some sort of reasonable explanation. Why would he do that? Because Kairi believed all monsters were merely disturbed or upset. Kairi believed all monsters had a chance to redeem themselves. She had stood up for them, and they had taken her.

But, then again, it did not matter. How could it? Whether or not people like Axel and Roxas were hurt inside _didn't matter_. As Mick had said, everyone goes through pain and misery, and it's how you act upon it that defines who you are.

Sighing, Sora poured himself a glass of root beer from Mick's fridge, sat down with it at the kitchen table, and looked out into this wonderful city full of dark streets and big dreams.

* * *

_9:30 PM_

Weary and frustrated, Zexion opened the door to Oblivion Labs. He was feeling rather depressed on his way back, and decided to call his search off so he could get some rest. He found the idea of having the Labs to himself tonight rather…intriguing. Perhaps he could read a book without being disturbed by some nuisance for once, or perhaps experiment on something interesting in either his or Vexen's lab. Just some fucking tranquility for once.

Yet, as soon as he walked in, something was wrong. The usually brightly-lit lobby was now dimmed to a vague glow. Frowning, Zexion walked towards the den to find Axel sitting there, smoking a cigarette and looking stressed. He was not watching TV, hell, the TV wasn't even _on_.

It was a deathly quiet.

"Axel?" asked Zexion, troubled. "Are you alright?"

Axel looked up at his superior with a mixture of fear and sorrow that took Zexion aback. This happy-go-lucky pyro was not usually one to wear such an expression.

"No, Zexion," said Axel, voice quavering. "Something horrible has happened. I didn't know who to call or what to do, so I waited here for a superior…"

"What happened?"

"Marluxia," whispered Axel. Zexion felt a chill run up his spine as his underling spoke the name. "It was Marluxia, Zexion. He's gone rampant. Apparently the Superior took him off of his meds, and he's gone and kidnapped Xion. Zexion I…I think he's going to kill her. Her _and_ Roxas."

Zexion stared at him, lips pursed, saying nothing. Both men were of equal cunning and deceit, and neither was giving any sort of impression towards the other. They both studied one another for a long time.

Then, Zexion said, rather haughtily, "What do you want _me_ to do about it?"

"Please, just go talk some sense into him!" Axel yelled. "He's gonna kill them both! He told me! That pink-haired fuck took her to the Hotel, the one where he was initiated fully!"

"Then so be it," said Zexion darkly. He turned for the elevator. "Things have been going downhill since those two _lovebirds_ showed up."

Axel screamed, "_YOU CAN'T JUST LET THEM DIE!_"

"I can do whatever the fuck I want, Eight!" the Schemer yelled right back. "And you can't say a damn thing about it! Want to know why? Because I outrank you. Hell, you all should treat me with the same respect you do the Superior! I am of equal intelligence, and you should all be my pawns! You are lucky you aren't!"

Axel, although being the skilled actor that he was, truly felt the horror that shone on his face.

He croaked, "So, that's how it is, huh?"

"Yes, you imbecile. That's how it is. How it's _always_ been. I guess it's about time all of you underlings found out how much you truly mean to me."

"I don't believe you," growled Axel. "Something's fucking up with you, something happened, and now all of a sudden you don't want the friends you used to have."

"_Friends?" _hissed Zexion. "_Friends? I have no friends!_"

"You did. All of us. We were all the only friends you had ever had. _Please_, Zexion. I need you to go into the Hotel and bring her out. Please."

"This is nonsense amongst grunts," spat Zexion, disgusted.

"We're _all_ in the Organization, _Zeke_. Or did you forget what the thirteen stood for?"

Both men stared daggers at one another from across the room.

Then, Axel spoke up, "What if you could better your rank from it? This can benefit you, too, if that's all you truly care about."

"What?"

"What if I told you that, if you reason with him, you might be able to kill off one of Mick's agents?"

Zexion took a step forward, frowning.

"What do you mean?" the intellect asked slowly, heart racing.

Axel grinned like the devil himself. A malicious glee gleamed in his eyes, one of triumph, but Zexion's heart was pumping blood into his head so swiftly that he hardly noticed.

The pyro said, "He has the redheaded one. Kairi. Marluxia has Kairi."

Zexion pushed past him and ran through the front door in a blur of black and gray. Axel stared at the shreds of normal clothes Zexion had pulled off of himself as he ran out; the man was going out in his Organization robes alone.

Smiling such a smile that would make the Cheshire Cat burn with envy, Axel hurried after his "superior"; there still needed to be some manipulating to do.

"Zexion!" he screamed. "Zexion, wait!"

Zexion turned, teeth clenched, eyes blazing.

"Please, promise me that you'll try and reason with him. I can't go in there myself…I need to try and find Roxas. Please, take care of Xion. I beg of you as…as my superior. Here." He handed Zexion a walkie-talkie. "Keep this on, Superior. Once I find my friend or call it quits, I'll be in the apartment building across the street, two buildings down from that computer store. From there, I can see anything that's happening…all the windows are opened. Please, sir. And thank you. I know I haven't been the most responsible Member…but now I truly need the help of someone like you. You're the only one of the Six Trusted here right now. Please…"

The intellectual stared at Axel for a moment, then reluctantly nodded before hurrying away again.

As soon as the fucking bookworm was out of earshot, Axel laughed his cunning ass off.

* * *

_10:30 PM_

Sora hiccupped from the bubbles of the root beer as he woke from a brief sleep. He moaned groggily, and wondered what the hell that buzzing was in his pocket as he tossed and turned on the kitchen floor that he had fallen asleep upon. Vaguely, he wondered if there was a hive of bees in his front pocket, and then he remembered he put his cell phone there. He moaned again, not wanting to talk to anyone at this moment, but if it was Mick calling with something important, he couldn't miss this.

He flipped open the cell and croaked, "Hello?"

"Sora!"

"Kairi!" Sora sat up, now instantly awake, his heart racing. "Oh my God…Kairi…I can't believe it…are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" she cried on the other end of the line. "I'm so sorry, Sora, I'm so sorry I let them take me-"

"Where are you?" he demanded, standing up. "Where did Axel take you?"

"To the Hotel! The Hotel where your parents got kidnapped! The entire place is empty. I think the Organization's responsible. I managed to get my one hand free to grab this phone, the idiot must've forgotten it…"

Sora laughed shakily. "My God, I fucking love you, O'Cooper. Okay, I'll come get you right now. Is he there? Is Axel in the building?"

"No," she cried. "But…Sora, he's going to leave me in here for _him_. _He's_ coming to kill me…tonight." She sobbed.

Sora clutched the phone tightly, his eyes wide.

"Who?" he whispered. "Who, Kairi?"

"Marla Shift."

He felt the strength in his knees give out.

"When?"

"I'm not sure…" She choked on another sob.

"I'm coming to get you. I love you."

"I love you, too."

She hung up. Sora closed the phone and went to the couch, grabbing the Keyblade that rested upon it. He stared at the shining metal of the alien weapon, thinking, _You've helped me throughout this entire adventure, whatever you are. You helped me with Lexaeus and with Axel and Roxas and you've given me a knowledge I never believed I'd ever have. Now, however, I truly need your help. I know you can understand me, despite being just a tool. You _understand_ my feelings, and that's how you've been my greatest ally so far. The girl I love is in danger. If you can help us, whatever you are, I need you to do so. I cannot thank you or your makers enough for what you've all done for me, but now I must ask one more favor of you. I need to know what to do when the times comes._

After this little prayer, it hit Sora how much he really _did_ need the Keyblade at a time like this. Luxord and Lexaeus were both warped in the head, but Marla Shift was truly a psychopath who thrived off of the pleasure he got from torturing others. What did Mick call him? A "monster". Marla Shift was a monster. This was no criminal mastermind, this was a demon within a man's body, and now he was being used to kill Kairi, the girl who made Sora so happy. He needed to put aside his fears for her.

_What the hell_, he thought, moving for the door. _Only little kids are afraid of monsters, anyways._

His hand was on the door when he heard the first sob.

Alarmed, he turned to the bedroom beside the entrance door to see Don sitting on the bed in the guestroom, back to Sora, head bent down low. Sora felt a moment of shock; he had never seen nor heard either Don _or_ Goofy cry before. Yet here the agent was, bawling his eyes out on the bed.

"D-Don?" Sora walked into the room slowly.

Don looked up, eyes red, tears streaming down his cheeks in rivers. In his hand he held the photo of a beautiful brunette woman and a lovely little girl with wide, brown eyes. The girl was sitting on the shoulders of a younger and smiling Don, who the woman was wrapping herself around in a loving hug.

"Are…are you okay?"

Don laughed and sniffed. "Do I look alright?"

"Is that your wife? And your daughter?"

Don looked at Sora straight in the eye and said, "Yes, son. That is my wife and daughter."

"I didn't know you were a father. None of us knew, I think."

Don looked back at the photo, tears splashing onto it. For a minute, all was quiet.

Then, Don said, with much effort, "When I was around thirty-two, my wife and child were killed by a couple of Heartless thugs. I had…spoken openly against them at a bar that night. The fucks followed me home, tied me to a chair, and made me watch as they stabbed both of 'em to death."

Sora looked at Don, horrified.

"They killed 'em both, and left me there tied to the chair. Not before givin' me this, though." He rolled up his sleeve and Sora saw a scar in the shape of the Heartless-symbol. "I've worn that ever since. And, ever since that day, I vowed I would kill all three of those Heartless and put an end to the entire group as a whole. Two of 'em I killed. Shot them right to death. The third just died recently, by that psycho-flower-fuck from the Organization. His name was Greg Coy. He was that group's _leader_. And he was just torn to shreds the other day.

"My wife," said Don, tearfully smiling. "She was a nurse. She dedicated her life to the hospital she worked at. Why? Because she wanted to fucking help this world. And my daughter…my daughter was a beautiful girl. Very smart and very funny. She was six. C-can you believe th-that? T-to this d-d-day I stay up at n-night wondering what kind of a muh-monster can kill a six year-old.

"And the worst part of it was…was that it was my f-fault. All of ih-it. I was a h-husband to Moira and a d-daddy to C-Courtney, and I failed at both. I let those three fuh-fucks take their lives. A nurse and a six year-old.

"Gone. G-gone forever."

Sora did not know what to say. He _had_ nothing to say.

Don continued, now talking through tears, "A-and that s-six year-old could've grown up to be the f-fucking P-President. And she was never given a _chance_. Not even a _chance_, Sora."

Again, Sora remained silent, his mouth open in a gape of concern and sorrow. Suddenly, he understood it all. All of those private talks about love and dedication…Don saw a part of _himself_ within Sora, and wanted to make sure that this boy he hardly knew would act out in protection the way he, Don, had not.

"You know where Kairi is, don't you?" Don asked him.

"Yes." Sora felt tears spring to his own eyes. He tried to keep himself under control.

Don breathed in, his voice cracking from the uncontrollable sobs, "You fucking save her, you hear me? You save her, and you do what's right for her."

Now he could not stop the inevitable; Sora began to cry as well, breathing in and out shakily.

Then, he said, "I m-made a promise to y-you that I would, didn't I? I didn't need to make one to save her. I would s-save her no matter what."

Still leaking, Don put a shaking hand into his pocket and pulled out a silver gun. It gleamed in the light of the room, and he handed it to Sora. Sora took it, spotting the word _Moira_ engraved on the barrel. Still crying, he looked up at Don.

"You protect her, no matter what."

"No matter what."

"Good luck, Keyblader. You truly are the best of us."

"Help me," Sora said. "Come with me."

"Can't. Mick needs me at an airport. I forgot my picture, though, which is why I'm here now. Plus…I do believe this is your mission, Keyblader. Yours, and yours alone."

"I could die. Hell, _we_ could die!"

"I don't think so," said Don simply, shrugging. "I think you'll both come out of it fine." He wiped his nose with his sleeve, recovering from his tears. "Call it a hunch. Or, maybe, just call it the Keyblade."

"Whaddyou mean?"

"That thing's had an affect on all of us, I reckon. Maybe we've _all_ been exposed to…hell, whatever it is. But I've just got an intense feeling that this is just a minor inconvenience, and will not end in tragedy." He stood up and walked towards the bathroom. Sora followed him. As he closed the door, Don added, "I will tell Mick of Kairi's whereabouts. I heard it all. The Hotel where everything changed. We'll be there to help as soon as we can. But, right now, there are other matters to attend to."

"I understand."

"I know you do.

"See you around, Keyblader."

The door shut.

Sora croaked, "See you around, Don."

He turned and hurried out the door.

* * *

_10:50 PM_

Kairi struggled even harder than usual. Her wrist was a bloody mess, the soft skin around it peeled and torn from her efforts. She was happy that her boyfriend was coming to get her, so happy that she had cried for the twenty minutes after they had hung up with one another. She desperately wanted to be free. Not even the blood from her wounds was enough lubricant to slip her way out of the last cuff.

Then, she stopped.

Footsteps.

Frightened, she gripped her free hand around the empty cuff and hid both behind the pillow of the bed. If Axel found out she had been freed even a little, all was lost.

But from the door did not come the fiery kidnapper who had locked her within this bizarre idea for a prison. In the door, standing tall in his Organization robes, pink bangs covering his eyes but not his smile, stood Marla Shift, now and forever, world without end, hallelujah and Amen.

"Hello, little pretty," he tittered.

Kairi stared at him, eyes wide.

"Look at you," he cooed. "So…so beautiful. I bet you got around a _lot_ in your life. Huh? Fire-crotch." He tittered again. He was carrying a black bag but let it fall to the floor. "The _other_ fire-crotch, my friend, he told me you'd be here. You and Xion." He frowned. "But I can't, for the life of me, find her! It's a _big_ hotel, little red, lemme tell ya'."

He walked up to her, and touched her face. His long fingers caressed her every soft feature, pinched her cheeks, tickled her eyebrows, softly kissed her forehead. When he was done, he smiled at her.

"You're sweet. So, so sweet. Delicious, divine. Central Park would love you, but…but I do believe you've given my friends a big problem. Don't you, little sweetie?" He bent down and licked her cheek. She breathed between her teeth, forcing herself not to scream; if she screamed, he would win.

_Oh, Sora, where are you?_

Marluxia was displeased with the lack of reaction. He bent down again, buried his face in between her breasts, and bit hard. She bit her lip to stop her scream, but then used the free hand behind the pillow to cuff him on the ear, hard.

Marluxia yelped, stepping back, his ear bleeding.

"You little cunt," he growled. "I just might have something for you. Oh, yes. I. Just. Might."

Kairi laughed and said, "Anything to get a scream, huh, Marla?"

Shift slammed his fists into her diaphragm, knocking the wind out of her instantly. She coughed and spluttered, trying to curse him but couldn't.

He went to the black bag and pulled out a small shard of glass. It was incredibly sharp, and looked like it had been taken from a broken mirror. Kairi saw her own reflection in the piece as it, with its malicious handler, moved towards her. She whimpered as the tip of the shard cut slowly into her smooth, creamy skin.

Marluxia sighed like a man coming close to orgasm as he lifted the shard and cut again into her upper arm. This time, he pressed down hard; the shard sank deeper into Kairi's flesh, and the hapless agent screamed as her skin tore apart.

Shift was instantly on the wound like a moth to the flame, sucking the blood, kissing the lips of the slash. Kairi moaned uncomfortably underneath his figure. When he was done, he got off of the bed and wiped his mouth.

Incredibly, he asked her, "Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

Kairi spat back, "You're disgusting."

"If I actually cared about what anyone thought, I would've killed myself a long time ago," said Shift darkly. "Do you know what it's like, fire-crotch, to be a freak your entire life? To be picked on because of things you can't control, or because of things you like? You haven't the slightest clue what true pain is. I could torture you all night, rip you apart to shreds, and you would never hurt as much as I have."

Kairi said nothing, just gave him a defiant look.

Marluxia's face twisted, cringing in some inner agony that only he could feel, as he yelled. "_It's not MY FAULT! It's NOT! HE CUT IT OFF, I DIDN'T CHOOSE THIS, HE CUT IT OFF! Stop it, stop it, STOP PICKING ON ME!_"

Perhaps in defense, Kairi yelled back to him. "I'm not doing anything to you!"

The look on the killer's face was now one of a monster taken aback, as if Kairi had just proclaimed that the moon was made of cheese or that Santa Claus was behind him doing a tap dance naked. Then the expression softened into one of deep confusion and accusation.

"Of course you're doing something," Shift whispered. "It's what _all_ of you do. All you so-called _normal people_. Pah! Ha-ha-ha!" His voice dropped to a mutter. "Yes…yes, I think I know just what to do. I think I know _exactly_ what _you_ need."

Kairi watched the madman skip to his black bag like a five year-old girl might skip to school. He smiled devilishly.

"Y'know, that's the thing about you _normal people_. Shunning us special folk out mmhmhmhmhmhahahahahah….shunning us out and hehehehehee, and m-m-making us fuh-feel like shiiiiiaaaaahahhaha_hahaha_! All of yuh-you are in the dark…heh…hehheh…wanna know what _Iiiiiiiii_ think, fire-crotch? Ya' needta lighten up."

And with that, from the black bag Marluxia pulled out a canister of gasoline.

* * *

Axel did not need to "search for Roxas" because he knew exactly where Roxas was; hiding in a hotel room in Brooklyn. It took a long time to convince his friend to stay away from the action, but Axel had managed to do it.

One thing he did _not_ lie about to Zexion was where he would be staying. He did have a nice view of the Hotel in Mr. Red Packer's apartment. Packer was out of town; Axel did not think the old shit would mind. He pulled up a chair to the window and watched the entire building up and down. All the lights were on and the windows were open.

Lounging like a man in a movie theater, Axel picked up his walkie-talkie and dialed it to the other receiver that didn't belong to Zexion.

"Lily?" he asked.

From the other end, Xion whispered, "Oh, good! I was wondering if you were gonna start talking or not."

"You alright there?"

"Yes, Axel," said Xion sarcastically. "I just _love_ the fact that I'm in a fucking panic room in the basement of a hotel I know nothing about. Tell me, though: who's my rescuer?"

"Zexion."

"_Zexion_?"

"Yes, ma'am. Looks like you two lovebirds will be reunited at last."

"Fuck you, fire-crotch. Where's Ryan?"

"Um, right here beside me," Axel lied.

"Can I speak to him?"

"He just went to the crapper."

"Ugh…_boys_."

"Love ya' too, shweetheart."

"Again: fuck you, fire-crotch."

"Sayonara."

"Bye."

Axel switched off the walkie-talkie, satisfied that his plan was working. Behind the chair he was lounging in were three duffel bags. Once Xion was safe and Marluxia was dead, the three of them were gonna get the Christly fuck outta here. Move to the beach or at least near the fucking ocean somewhere; Axel had wondered about buying an island or something of the sort. If the Organization were to succeed, they could watch the world crumble from their own, private life somewhere. If not, then they could live out their lives together somewhere.

_All will be well_, he thought.

* * *

Marluxia took the lid off of the gasoline and poured a thin line from the doorway to the bed, then covered Kairi's feet in the stuff. He threw the gasoline away then, accidentally spraying his shoes.

"Oh, poop," he said sadly. Then, he brightened. "Whatever. I'll wipe it off later." Shift pulled out a small, silver lighter and walked out of the room, into the hallway.

"_No!_" Kairi begged him, voice cracking with strain. "_Please don't! Please don't light me on fire!_"

Marluxia, Marla Shift, the notorious and floral psychopath, laughed maliciously and clicked the lighter. A small flame emerged, and Kairi thought of that tiny ember enveloping her, slowly killing her in the most painful way bearable.

Marluxia bent down to his knees and started slowly lowering the fire to the trail of gasoline. He looked up at Kairi and grinned.

"This is gonna hurt big-time, my lovely," he said happily.

"_PLEASE NO! PLEASE! PLEASE! NO! NO! NO!_"

Marluxia laughed again. "Scream, bitch! Scream for your mommy! Beg me for life!"

"_PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T BURN ME! SORA OH GOD SORA PLEASE!_"

The pink-haired demon was tackled by another figure in black robes, this one with a head full of hair that was going prematurely gray…or was it white? It did not matter, for this man was now shoving Kairi's would-be killer against the wall of the room and pummeling him in the face. Marluxia fell to the floor, knocked out cold, nose bleeding.

In front of him, breathing heavily over his fallen foe, stood Zeke Fender.

He had aged tremendously since she had last seen him. It was mostly his eyes; they seemed to hold an eternal and forsaken knowledge, a knowledge that most others would never want on their mind…a knowledge that he had constantly on his mind.

"Zeke…" she breathed. "Zeke…Fender? Is that really you?"

Although it seemed impossible for an individual as pale as he to blush, Zeke did so, and incredibly brightly. He could hardly look her in the eye, she noticed, and suddenly she was blushing as well.

"Y-yeah," he said, somewhat sheepishly. "Hello, Kairi."

She said nothing, just stared at him, wide-eyed.

He cleared his throat and said, "Let's get you out of those handcuffs, okay? Did you hurt your wrist?"

"Um…what? Oh. Yeah, I did. But it doesn't matter. Th-thank you."

Fender's blush reddened as he moved towards Marluxia and searched him. After a moment or two, Zeke found the tiny silver key and used it to free Kairi's other hand. As soon as she was freed, the redhead sat up and hugged Zeke, tightly.

Zexion tensed up as if he had touched a live wire. Her flesh upon his…it was almost unbearable. But he hugged her back nevertheless.

When the embracing was finished, they stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

"Let's get you the Hell out of h-"

Marluxia was back up and attacking like a ravenous carnivore, scratching and screeching as he flung himself at the hapless Zexion. The men rolled onto the floor, each fighting desperately.

"Flee!" yelled Zexion to his crush. "I'll hold him off!"

But Kairi was paying him no attention, for a third man had just entered the room, making his way towards her by carefully running around the two brawlers who took no notice of him. Sora, her lover, was here in the flesh, his Keyblade wielded, his face full of such concern and love that Kairi's sorrow and fear had been swept away by its presence. He walked towards her and kissed her full on the mouth, then grabbed her hand and they made their way out of the room together.

"Wait!" cried Kairi. "What about Zeke?"

"We have no time!" said Sora. "Shift's going to be after us any second!"

"He saved me!" Kairi replied firmly, yanking her hand away from him. "I'm not going to-"

From the room they were just in came out Marluxia, running towards them with murder in his eyes and his scythe in hand. Zexion ran behind him, face red from the brutal hits of his "underling", his lips pulled back into a snarl.

Axel, from his watching position, could hardly see what the hell was going on. It looked like there were four figures on the third floor, where he had kept Kairi. Could Zexion have already gotten Xion? Well, no matter what was happening, one thing was apparent: Marluxia was fighting back, and fighting hard. Axel figured as much; the guy truly was a psycho. Interrupting his murder was like interrupting sensual sex for a normal person.

Axel leaned forward, head almost out the window, the detonator to all of the C-4s in his right hand. His thumb rested on the red button. Beads of sweaty anticipation rolled down his forehead.

He wished to god he could get a better look, but up here was where it was safe.

* * *

Zexion was flung into the wall with such a force that it made his teeth rattle. Marluxia spat at him once he was done, the green and sticky luger oozing down Zexion's face. The Schemer recovered quickly and ran for Shift, grabbing the back of his robes and pulling him hard away from Kairi and the Keyblader. Marla Shift turned and swung his scythe. Zexion yelped as the tip of the blade tore open his shirt and the skin of his belly. He grasped the wound, doubled-over, as the serial killer made his way back to the two teenagers.

Warm blood gushing between his fingers, Zexion ran forward and kneed Marluxia right in his rear. Marluxia screamed in agony and Zexion brought him down the floor, crowning him over the head with his fists together.

"Quickly!" he yelled to the two, pointing down the hall as he got up. "The elevator! Run!"

The three of them scrambled for the metal doors and Sora quickly pressed the button with a small arrow pointing down on it. The elevator slowly made its way up.

Kairi screamed, "_No!_"

Both men looked around to see Shift rushing forward, his scythe raised above his head, his face a bruised and bloodied monstrosity.

Bullshit with fear, Sora tugged _Moira_ out of his pocket and fired. The bullet tore the side of Marluxia's hip and the serial killer fell on the floor, howling in pain, blood spurting on the nice carpets of the Hotel's hallways.

The doors to the elevator opened and the three ran in. Sora and Kairi put their backs against the wall opposite from the doors, breathing heavily. Zexion smacked the button that read "Lobby". The metal doors shut slowly, only to be stopped by the blade of Marluxia's scythe.

Peeking his head in between the small crack, Marla Shift tittered and said, "There _are_ stairs, y'know," before letting go. The doors shut and the three looked at one another, all of their eyes wide.

Sora coughed to Zexion, "Y-you…you're in the…Organization, too?"

Zexion, also wheezing, nodded.

"Y-you saved her."

"Yeah, I-"

"Thank you."

For the first time in for what felt like eternity, Zexion's face brightened into a brilliant smile. Sora was almost taken aback by the sincere happiness in this man's face, as it held no hostile intentions, something Sora would've thought this person was full of. But Zexion was as happy as a toddler with a bag of delicious sweets, his eyes glowing in a certain way that it made the smile infectious; Sora and Kairi returned it enthusiastically.

"I guess I kinda see why you guys do what you do," said Zeke Fender, and his loud laugh was heavy with mirth.

"Doing what's right has rewards, yeah," said Sora, and the two grinned at each other; it was as if they weren't on different sides of a battle at all.

"We're not out of this yet, though," Kairi said. "That fucking freak is still here, and he's coming down."

Something buzzed within Zexion's robes. He took out the walkie-talkie Axel had given him, and turned it on.

"_…exion, are you there? You there, man?_"

"Yes. I am here. You were right about Marluxia, he's gone rampant."

"_No fucking shit. Are you in the elevator?_"

"Yeah."

"_He's coming downstairs to the lobby. Do you…av…ion…w…y…?_"

"You're breaking up!" yelled Zexion sharply. "Are you there? Hello?"

"_Do…have…girl?_"

"Yes!" he cried. "Yes, I have the girl!"

"_O…ay…be…caref…_"

Static.

Zexion swore, then looked at the two. "You heard him, right?"

"Hardly," said Sora.

"Okay. Well, Marluxia's going to meet us at the lobby, so we have to hurry."

"What the fuck is wrong with him? I knew he was insane, but if you're on the same side and he attacked you…"

"Any animal will respond violently if you interrupt something it loves. Furthermore, I do believe he's stopped taking his Zoloft…"

"We're at the lobby," Kairi croaked, staring at the meter above the metal doors with a nervous expression on her face. "Get ready."

The elevator rang and the doors opened behind him.

* * *

_11:03 PM_

Mick sat in his car at the airport he was attending in Saddle Brook, sipping a coffee and looking out on the dark runway, his headlights being the only thing illuminating the area besides the small flashing red lights that lined the perimeter of the landing strip. In the passenger's seat was Everett, who was smoking a cigarette and falling asleep, and in the back seats were Don and Goofy, patiently waiting.

"What the fuck?" asked Mick to no one in particular. "Those two peckers were supposed to be here by now. I'm callin' them again." He flipped open his cell phone and dialed the number he had been given by the hyperactive pilots.

Everett lazily looked outside his window out into the dark runway, his breath fogging up the window as his mind slowly began to drift into a drowsy-like state, and suddenly he was dreaming of his days with his wife eating ice cream and he thought to himself _Boy, I can't wait to go home so I can see Celia again_ and he dreamed of his kids and her on Christmas morning last winter and soon he was hallucinating someone walking towards the car and knocking on its window, a tall intimidating man…

A tall intimidating man _was_ knocking on the car window. All four agents in the car gasped in surprise.

Mick rolled down his window and called out, "Yeah?"

"Former Senator Mick Mouse?"

"Who's this?"

"My name is Xigbar. I was sent to talk to you about a possible deal between yourself and my boss."

"Who is your boss?"

"You know who."

Mick felt a chill creep up his spine at that. He cleared his throat and pulled his small revolver from his inside coat-pocket. He checked the rounds; full. Good. The gun went silently into his front pocket, where his right hand rested on it. Then he stepped out of the car.

"Member of Organization XIII?" he asked politely.

"Yeah, that'd be me," laughed the man in the darkness.

Mick shot at him through his pocket. The retort echoed throughout the open landing strip and the bullet tore through the air. Unfortunately for the former Senator, the bullet did _not_ tear the Member. In fact, it didn't even hit him.

The man laughed and said, "Listen, sir, I did not come to fight. Just to negotiate."

"Fuck you!" growled Mick.

The man stepped forward into the headlights of the car. Mick saw a tall man with dark hair streaked with premature gray. The most prominent feature of this stranger, however, was the fact that in place of one eye he had an eye patch that did not quite cover up one hell of a scar.

"Please," said Xigbar. "All I want is to talk. The airport has a cafeteria. Can I buy you and your friends some coffee, and we can wait for whoever it is you're waiting for together?"

"How the hell can I trust you?" snarled Mick. "I oughta shoot you dead right here and right now."

"But you haven't yet. You suspect I have something to offer, which I truly do. I am currently unarmed, and all four of you _must_ have guns."

"I don't have to kill you, but what's stopping me from arresting you and beating the shit out of you for information?"

Xigbar said rather lazily, "Because I'm about to tell you everything anyways. It's rather chilly out here, so can we get inside, please?"

Mick frowned at him. "Fine. Daniel, Don, Goof'. You heard the man."

"Coffee's on me," Xigbar promised.

They walked through the darkness and into the near-empty airport that was complete with a lounge and a large dining room with a bar in the back that faced the airstrip they had left the van upon. Mick had arranged his "parking space" there with the airport managers.

Xigbar went to the counter of the fast food restaurant in the dining area and ordered five coffees, each made to the men's requests. They sat down next to the window, Mick still a live wire with caution, his hand always hovering near the pocket where his gun rested. He also shot the guards there looks when they passed by; although he was permitted the unique parking spot, he was not permitted a gun. Too fucking bad for them, he figured.

"Now, _Xigbar_," sneered Mouse. "What is it that you want to discuss?"

Xigbar took a sip of coffee, cleared his throat, and said, "Right now, the leader of our Organization is aware of the deaths of three of our Members. We've collected the bodies of Luxord, Lexaeus, and Xaldin. Each one of these men were killed by your agents. Organization XIII has been hit hard by you and your men, as all three of our colleagues that you have killed off were valued Members and good friends. Now, we know why you are pursuing us; the O'Reilly-boy's parents, unfortunately, are dead, and although we can do many things, resurrection is something I'd prefer you'd ask Jesus to do for you instead of us. However, we _can_ pay you. Lots of money, actually. It can all go directly to O'Reilly. Consider it the terms of our conditional surrender."

Mick laughed heartily. "You truly believe we're all after your Organization to avenge the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. O'Reilly? Although that _is_ Sora's reason for joining our cause, we are doing this mostly because of our awareness that you and your people are planning something big to harm a lot of people. Stopping you is our primary mission."

"I can assure you-"

"No, you can't. You _can't_. You think we're a group easy enough to shrug off?"

"On the contrary-"

"Because we're _not_ easy to shrug off. We've made it our responsibilities to protect this world at any cost. If that means we have to eliminate all of you, then so be it. The only thing that would ever truly convince me to let my guard down would be the public destruction of this 'Nobody Virus' your Organization is breeding."

"How do you know of the Virus?"

"It doesn't matter. The only thing that does is that I _do_ know of the Virus, and I don't approve of it one bit as a human being. So you might want to rethink the terms of this _negotiation_, Xigbar."

Xigbar pouted. "So you're never going to get out of our hair. Is that right?"

"That's right. Either you kill us or we kill you."

"Bummer."

"That's war, Xigbar. That's war."

"It's a damn shame, to be honest. It doesn't _have_ to be a war."

"As long as you're on some insane adventure to kill off many people, it will be."

"We can work things out. We truly can."

"You know we can't. The best thing you can do personally is resign right now. Resign from the Organization and we'll take you into custody. You'll be safe in prison while we find your friends based on information you will give us. _You_ can come out of this alive, Xigbar. It all depends on you."

Xigbar smirked. "You and I both know I would never do that, Mr. Mouse."

"Then it looks like your transaction failed."

"I guess so. Gonna arrest me? Do me in? Blow my brains out?"

"I actually have a couple questions for you."

"As if I'm going to talk under any interrogation."

"Well, Demyx sure did."

Xigbar's eyes widened and he gasped loudly. His empty coffee cup fell onto its side and rolled off the table. Mick stared at him calmly, his inner self grinning with malice.

"_Demyx_?" spluttered Xigbar. "You interrogated _Demyx_?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Care to answer my questions now?"

"Fuck you. You didn't talk to Demyx."

"How would you know? You wouldn't."

"You're full of shit. Senators are sufficient liars."

"True enough. Fine; his name is Damien Taylor. That 'shooting' he got caught in? That was _my_ doing. He led us to Luxord's location in Vegas."

"What'd he tell you?"

"Ready to answer my questions?"

Xigbar scowled.

Mick said, "It's a negotiation _now_, Xigbar."

"Fine. I'll answer your fucking questions."

"Good. Although I know you won't give specific information regarding your plans away, I'll keep my questions in an area in which you can answer without fear of repercussions. I would arrest you, yes, if I had the authority to do so anymore. I would interrogate you, yes, if only I wanted to leave this place a bloodbath and have the cops on _both_ of our tails; you don't look the type to get pummeled. Hell, you're bigger than myself and all of my men here.

"As for my first question. I am aware of these names: Christopher Xehanort, Damien Taylor, Jackson Picard, Ryan Hall, Marla Shift, and Lea Conrad. Aliases: Xehanort, Demyx, Luxord, Roxas, Marluxia, and Axel, respectively. That makes six. I want the other seven names, including yours. I am already aware that you have erased previous files of your Members and have eliminated their families as far as I know. Who are the other seven? If you give me false names, I'll know. Even though the Organization's influence stretches far, it has nothing on a man who used to run the government. Records of all of you still exist. Did you know that? So if I hear you say 'John Smith', I'm inclined to not reveal to you anything Demyx told us."

Xigbar scowled again. "You truly know how to grab someone by the balls, dontcha, Mouse?"

"I truly do, yes."

"Fine." Xigbar sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Mick opened up a notepad and clicked a pen, ready to write. "It doesn't necessarily matter anyway, seeing as our names can't necessarily be used against us. Plus, you can't even go to the public or press about it, can you, _former Senator_?

"Christopher Xehanort is Member One. I am Member Two, and my birth name is Anson Garrat. Member Three is Xaldin, who you shot to death; his name was Kirk Manson. Member Four…Vincent Redman, now known as Vexen. Five is Lexaeus, who you also killed, a man formerly known as Alex Curtis. The next, Member Six, is a young intellectual named Zeke Fender, alias Zexion. Member Seven is Sebastian Hoffman, a.k.a Saix. Lea Conrad, Axel, is Eight. Demyx, the guy you supposedly interrogated, is Member Nine, and you know him…Damien Taylor. Jackson Picard came next. Then Marla Shift. Member Twelve is a woman named Erica-Bridget Scott who now goes by Larxene. Thirteen is Roxas, or Ryan Hall."

"Okay, so…Chris Xehanort, Anson Garrat, Kirk Manson, Vincent Redman, Alex Curtis, Zeke Fender, Sebastian Hoffman, Lea Conrad, Damien Taylor, Jackson Picard, Marla Shift, Erica-Bridget Scott, and Ryan Hall. Thirteen. I got that right?"

"Yeah, you got it. Now tell me about Demyx."

"Fine. Damien made himself apparent when he kidnapped Sora's parents; Sora had been a fan of the musician. After a bit of trouble, we took Demyx forcibly from his concert, replacing him with a shot double. We took him and interrogated him, beating him until we got the information we needed. He merely told us about Luxord's whereabouts and the Nobody Virus, which he himself knew next to nothing about."

"That latter part's true. Fine; looks like _I_ have an appointment with that little cock-knocker. Have a nice day, Mouse."

Xigbar stood and walked to the exit of the dining room.

"Wait!" Mick called.

The assassin turned, giving a cold look.

"I have one last question. About two days ago, your agent Axel kidnapped my agent, Kairi. I would like to know why, and would like to know if there is anything I can do to get her back."

Xigbar shook his head, bewildered. "I've not a clue," he said. "I…I was not aware of this."

"He took her to, I believe, the Hotel where your Organization initiated Marla Shift."

"Why would he do that?"

"I'm asking _you_."

Xigbar turned again, looking troubled, then ran out of the dining area and through the airport. Mick watched him go, lips pursed.

"Sir," said Don. "They're here."

Mick looked out of the large windows of the dining room and saw a small plane landing on the airstrip, coming dangerously close to hitting the car they had parked there.

"Oh, good! Let's see them, quickly! Sora needs our help."

They stood and hurried to the airstrip once more.

* * *

The doors to the elevator opened, and the three crept out of the small metal box warily, their eyes darting to all of the dark corners of the lobby. Sora remembered walking through this very same lobby what felt like a century ago. He had just put on some fresh clothing to see the computer store across the street, a simple task for a simpler cause, an act which threw him into a world of war and wonder.

As he passed the desk he could almost hear the concierge ask, _Is there anything I can get for you, sir?_. Sora briefly wondered whether or not that man had survived Marla's previous assault in this Hotel, wondered if _anyone_ besides himself did-

The oncoming blade of the scythe swooshing through the air interrupted Sora's thoughts, and he pushed Zexion out of the way of the blow.

Marla Shift growled in frustration and kicked Sora in the stomach. The boy doubled over in pain, only to be knocked backwards by a powerful knee to the face. Sora hit the floor hard enough to make his teeth rattle. His vision darkened as his consciousness left him.

"Now," cooed Marluxia. "We're going to have fun again. I'm very sorry, _Superior_, but traitorous behaviors? Naughty naughty _naughty_."

"Marluxia, you need your Zoloft," Zexion tried to explain quickly, his voice somewhat fearful. "I _order_ you to stand down!"

"We're past that, sexy Zexy," tittered the killer. "We're gonna have some more fun. This time, though, you can't escape; I locked those front doors. The key…let's just say that, if I had a pussy, it'd be in there." He tittered again. "Fire-crotch, you first. Take off your pants."

"W-what?" cried Kairi fearfully.

"You heard me, silly-billy. Strip down to your pretty little pussy."

Although so afraid she was shaking, Kairi managed to raise her chin in defiance.

"No," she said firmly. "I will not."

Marluxia shrieked, "_Do as I say, cunt!_"

The madman swung the scythe again, this time tearing Kairi's jeans. Her pant legs fell to the floor and blood gushed out of her upper legs in the thin yet deep cut Marluxia had made. Zexion cried out, indignant.

Marlxuia was on the girl in a second, his hand down her now-shorts and moving around in her crotch. When his long fingers reemerged, they were moist. He sniffed her fluids and lapped them up with his tongue like a dog with its water bowl.

"So sweet," he crooned. "So sweet. Central Park loves a sugary whore now and then."

He laughed maniacally, hysterically, to the point of tears springing to his eyes. Something, perhaps that laughter, perhaps that taunting, perhaps that sexual gesture, made Kairi snap. Screaming, she flung himself at him, scratching and biting anything she could. Marluxia hissed and fought right back, but his clumsy swings were nothing compared to Kairi's swift jabs and bites.

"Gerroffme!" he roared as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Still furious and desperate to live, Kairi O'Cooper bit hard on the side of the serial killer's head with all her might. She felt flesh rip from fresh and warm blood pour down her chin in streams. Marluxia sank down to his knees as Kairi spat his severed right ear out of her mouth, letting it land with a bloody splash at his knees.

Pink hair dampened with blood, crimson covering the right half of his face and neck, Marluxia willed himself to stand up. Roaring again, he charged at Kairi, scythe over his head. He brought it down, hoping to embed the silver blade into her red scalp, but it only clashed against metal, sparks flying like a firework display.

"Fuck you, psychopath," said Sora coldly. He kicked the killer in the gut, sending him backwards, then rushed forward, swinging the Keyblade intensely.

Marluxia blocked each attack with his scythe, the scythe that had taken so many lives, his signature weapon. However, even though the weapon was such a landmark to him, it did not surpass the otherworldly might of the Keyblade, and soon the stick was snapped into two useless splinters. Marla Shift looked down at his fallen companion, his broken best friend, his destroyed and formerly loyal sidekick, in utter horror. Had he been an actual person and not a creature of madness and malice, he would have cried right there on the spot, cried like a baby.

"_I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL!_" he screamed and ran for the stairwell, pools of the gasoline he had on his lower robes dripping behind him.

"Zexion?" spoke Zexion's communicator. "Ever…y…a…right?"

"Sora!" cried Zexion. "You have a gun! Shoot the fucking glass doors!" He talked into his communicator. "We're coming out of the Hotel!"

"_O…ay…_" Static.

Sora raised _Moira_ and fired at the glass doors from their position across the lobby. They shattered and the alarms of the building began to ring.

Around them, the pounds of C-4 that none of the three had known about exploded.

* * *

When Axel had received his latest message from Zexion, he had been standing with half of his body out of the window, trying to get a good look down into the lobby of the Hotel. It was hard to see, but he certainly saw three figures running. Zexion, Xion, and Kairi. He had personally seen a Marluxia-shaped figure run away from the three.

Now was the time to act. Zexion and the other two were close to the front doors. Once the first C-4 detonated, they would have a chance to get away.

_Whatever_, Axel thought bitterly. _Last time pays for all. Don't it, Marluxia?_

"Shouldn't have fucked with my friend, bitch," he whispered to himself.

Axel pressed the red button on the detonator and watched as his fireworks began.

* * *

"What's happening?" cried Kairi.

Zexion screamed, "The building's being blown to bits, _that's_ what's happening! Everyone run to the door!"

Sora pushed Kairi towards the door and started to run behind her when a hand grabbed his collar and twisted him around. Marla Shift was back, his eyes wide with shock at this turn of events, teeth bare with hatred at the person he considered responsible. In retaliation, Sora punched the killer in the face. He watched as Shift quickly backed up towards one of the windows on the side of the lobby, and as another explosion blew him off of his feet and through the window. The killer was out of sight.

Sora turned and made a break for the door. The room detonated around him. Pillars and rubble flew in chunks all over the place, shattered glass littered the floor, and running around the Hotel's lobby was a figure that looked human…but no…it couldn't be…could it? It looked like a girl. For a split second, Sora and the girl made eye contact, and then she was consumed by the hungry flames with a small "_Oh!_".

_Hallucination_, Sora though. _You've finally lost your damn mind._

He sprinted for the glass doors, his heart racing. Behind him the flames of the explosions persisted. However, what was _above_ him truly terrified him: the sounds of colossal weights falling and hitting one another; the entire building was collapsing.

_The hell is going on?_

_ Does it matter? GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!_

He felt his animal instinct kick in as his skinny legs pumped for the door. A wave of fire crashed down behind him, and he yelped as he felt the tremendous heat singe the hair on his legs and the soles of his shoes.

As the room blew up behind him, Sora jumped through the broken glass of the doors, landing out onto the cool pavement of the street in front of the Hotel. He turned back to the building, crawling away, and watched in awe as all of the windows of the Hotel shattered and erupted spirals of fire and smoke. Debris rained onto the streets.

"Sora!"

Sora turned to see Kairi and Zexion in a nearby alleyway. He sprinted over to them and the three watched as, floor by floor, the Hotel fell. Smoke, ash, and chunks of concrete filled the surrounding area. All three of them coughed and choked on the plumes of dust as they overwhelmed them.

Then, mercifully, it was all over.

Within the darkness of the night and the unholy mist that shrouded them, Sora, Kairi, and Zexion looked upon the ruins of the Hotel. Relieved to be alive, Sora dropped _Moira_ and almost collapsed on his side.

Kairi stopped him short and kissed him full on the mouth, kissed him harder than she had ever kissed _anyone_ in her entire life. His hands stole to the back of her head and worked within her fiery-red hair and he kissed back, full-force. Nothing mattered at all besides this moment, this one moment of love and care, this wonderful human ecstasy that could only come from a significant other. The two were so involved in their kiss that they hardly noticed the smoke filling their lungs, their cuts and bruises, their pain and relief. The two were so involved in their kiss that they hardly remembered what happened previously, could care less why it did happen. They two were so involved in their kiss that they did not notice Zeke Fender's eyes squint down into deadly, jealous triangles, did not notice his skin pale and his body tremble.

Teeth bared, Fender bent down and picked up _Moira_, and cocked the pistol.

Sora and Kairi turned.

"Zexion?" asked Sora. "You okay?"

Sora wanted to believe that he was, but the malice in the man's eyes said otherwise. Suddenly, looking at those eyes, Sora was now aware that although they had avoided death at the hands of one psychopath, their survival had brought them into the clutches of another.

* * *

_Sweet sweet oh how sweet_

Yes, there was a taste of sweet in his mouth, and it reminded him a lot of his old foster dad

_that sick fuck_

Chris Hart.

_I want to do something to you_

_ Do something do something do something to to to you you you_

_ I love you, Marla _

_ love you_

Yes, it was all coming back to Shift now. Everything came back in a rush of memory. That reminded him of blossoming flowers. Fields of roses. Sunflowers on a summer's day. So beautiful, so beautiful. He imagined a never-ending garden of such beauty that it would put Eden to shame, a garden full of red and blue vines that were thin and wet and delicious to suck on, those pretty vines within the skins of human beings, the veins and arteries, the tunnels of color and life.

He thought of throats being slashed, which also brought him happiness, and he moaned aloud when he thought of the blood spilling upon the garden of veins. As soon as his head stopped hurting so much, he would find people, preferably children due to their innocence, kill them all, and bathe in their blood. Such an idea had never occurred to him before now. He very much liked it.

Marluxia opened his eyes and found himself amongst the ruins of the Hotel, on his back, looking up at the dark bluish-gray sky. He wondered what time it was, and guessed probably around five o'clock in the morning. An all-nighter, and not a single person killed. Oh, how the world would pay for this.

He would find that redheaded cunt and her troublesome friend, but only after his red bath. Those two assholes did quite the number on him…his ear was gone, his head was pounding, and his ankles hurt something awful. Actually, that was what hurt the most: his ankles. Why was that?

Frowning, he sat up, rubble-chunks falling off of him, to take a look. When he saw the flames working up his legs, his heart sank.

"No," he whispered.

Shift patted the legs of his robes, remembering anxiously how he had _spilled the gasoline on himself_ when he was with the girl—in a panic—but the flames would not resist. On the contrary; they pressed forward, moved up to his upper legs. He cringed as he felt his skin shrivel and blacken under the intense heat of the fire. Shift had always scorned fire; no flower was a fan of the flame. He thought of the way paper plates burned when thrown into a campfire when he looked down at his legs, for that's almost what it looked like. The smell of burning flesh filled his bloodstained nostrils and he heard the sizzling of his skin through his only ear.

The fire crept upon him like a prowling jungle cat. It burned past his hips and up into his stomach. He felt nerves he was never aware of before pop and sizzle within the burning. Inside him, he felt blood amongst various fluids and acids splash around.

"_Ughhhh!_" he cried. "_Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!_"

He jerked with the pain. Nothing could be this unbearable, surely he was having a dream, having a _nightmare_, but this was all too real to be anything like that. He twitched and threw his head back and forth. Blood and other innards _flew_ from his mouth in chunks, splattering on the piles of crumbled cinder next around him.

His eyes gave out a second later. They were there one moment, gone the next.

_BLIND!_ he thought madly. _I'M BLIND I'M BLIND OH GOD I'M BLIND HELP ME SUPERIOR HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME OH GOD IT HURRRRRTS! _

He felt that intense heat, that hellish burning, rise to his neck. He raised his arm to the sky, hoping someone, perhaps his Superior, would come and save him from this horrible, agonizing torture.

As the orange flames lastly preyed upon his head, as it burned his hair and crisped his face, Marluxia realized that nobody was coming for him after all.

And all of the men and women slain before, righteous and unrighteous alike, were avenged in one final jerk as the notorious flower succumbed to the flame.

* * *

_4:53 AM_

"Are…are you alright?" asked Sora, taking a step back. Incredibly, he heard himself add, "Sir?"

"Am I alright?" repeated Zexion. "_Am_ I? Ha! Haha! Hahahahahaha_haaaa_!" He lowered _Moira_ to laugh, laugh until his face turned as red as his calculating eyes. "That's funny! That's a real _laugh_, Sora! _Are you alright, Sir_? Bahahahaha!" Zexion sobered up so suddenly it took both agents aback. He raised the gun menacingly and, through grit teeth, spoke, "No, you stupid fuck. I am most certainly _not_ 'alright'. I'm anything fucking but."

Kairi firmly said, "Zeke, put down the gun."

"Shut up, slut."

"Zeke-!"

"IT'S _ZEXION_!"

The correction was a roar that echoed in this dark alleyway. Sora's heart sank; what the hell was happening next? Whatever it was, he figured it was going to end in violence. As much as he did not want it to happen, he just instinctively knew. He reached in his pocket for the Keyblade, only to find it not there.

Zexion noticed the gesture and laughed. He held the Keyblade up himself and asked its wielder: "Looking for something?"

"G-give that back, Zexion," said Sora. "Please."

"Oh, shut the fuck up already. Haven't you whined enough throughout your entire fucking _quest_? _Oh no, they took my mommy and daddy! Oh no, they took my girlfriend! Oh no, they're killing people because they're so terrible and awful and we have to stop them!_ No. You fucking buffoon, you're fighting the inevitable; the _world_ is a terrible and awful place, and we are the representatives of this planet's truer, darker nature. Does that frighten you? Does it frighten you to believe you're doing all this without a cause, that your very _existence_ is without a cause? You truly think that you, a pittance of imbeciles working for a resigned senator, can stop our ploys? Even if you kill more of us, you're fucked. It's too late. We've already begun."

Kairi whispered, "Zekey…Zeke…"

Zexion turned _Moira_ to her. Sora cried in outrage.

"You." His voice trembled slightly but he caught himself quickly. "You are the biggest fraud to ever exist. You are exactly the reason _why_ I joined the Organization in the first place. You are hollow, nothing but ash inside a heap of flesh, incapable of feeling anything, any sort of remorse. I come to this fucking Hotel, I go on a suicide-mission to save you, and you're mating with THIS fucking idiot? _I put it all on the line for you, and this is what I get?_"

Zexion turned _Moira_ and fired. Sora felt a horrible stinging sensation as the bullet took to his shoulder. He fell onto the ground, yelping, grabbing the wound that was now leaking blood and smoke from the hotness of the bullet. Kairi screamed and ran to him, but Zexion caught her in mid-run as he aimed Don's pistol at her again.

"Please!" she begged, she screamed. "Please! Please stop it! Please stop!"

Zexion's grin was ghastly. "Amazing, isn't it? You go to school, see someone every day, and you never know what he's gonna be when he gets older. You can't picture him being successful, being anything he isn't then…and especially being the man about to kill your lover. How does it feel, Kairi? It hurts. Doesn't it? _DOESN'T IT_?"

Tears soaking her face, Kairi slowly moved her head up and down.

She managed to croak, "I…I don't understand…"

"Me neither!" cried Zexion, and laughed maniacally again. "_I_ don't fucking understand either! It's the greatest enigma of all, the Eighth Wonder of the Fucking World! I don't know WHY thoughts of you keep me up at night, I don't know WHY my mind always comes back to you, and I don't know WHY you make me like this! What the hell are you? What _is_ it about you? What is it that makes me love you?"

The silence between the three after those last two words was almost heavy with its intensity. Zexion's lips pursed as soon as he said it, and although he flushed, his face was still stony and unemotional.

"Love me?" Kairi asked. "_You_…love me?"

If something sick can suffer chills, Zexion's icy stare was a plausible symptom for a clearly agitated mind.

"Yes," he said through grit teeth. "I love you. I have loved you ever since we first talked all those years ago. Do you know what that's like? Do you know what it's like to be tortured everyday by a _memory_, by what _never happened_? Do you know what it's like to be unable to go out into public without fear of seeing a couple and thinking about what I don't have? Do you have the slightest. Fucking. _Clue_?

"Well, Kairi O'Cooper. Today, you're going to find out. You're going to find out _everything_. Like you blew yourself away from me, I'm going to blow the one _you_ love away from you." He cocked _Moira_ and pointed it down at Sora. Sora looked into the dark barrel, his mouth open into a scowl, blood running through his teeth. "Kiss your ass goodbye, Keyblader. It's over for you."

But then, he had an inspiration. A rather _fantastic_ inspiration. Smile full of malice, Zexion wielded the Keyblade, looking it over, enjoying its shine.

"Say…" he said slowly. "Wouldn't that be a more theatric execution? Stabbing you to death with your own Keyblade?"

"No!" screamed Kairi. "Zeke! Please no!"

The sound of her desperate screaming instantly made contact with Zexion's remaining humanity. Tears sprung to his eyes and poured down his face.

He turned to her. "Don't you understand? I have to do this! It's only fair! It's the only way to turn this all around!"

"There are other ways!"

"_I LOVE YOU!_" he screamed at her, tears flying off of his face. "_I LOVE YOU AND ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS HIM? THIS IS NOT THE WAY THINGS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE!_"

Voice shaking with utter emotion, Kairi spoke, "Zeke, if you do this, you will have not loved me. Whatever you've done before might have hardened you, but if you kill Sora, it will be over for you completely. What will you become? The next Marla Shift? You're a thinker, _Zexion_. So think. Please. For all of our sakes."

The Keyblade raised over his head like a battleaxe, his entire body shaking, Zexion looked at her. Looked at her straight in the eye, and this time his gaze did not waver. Then, he let out a wail and let the metal rod drop from his hands, where it clanged on the pavement of the alleyway.

"I can't b-believe this," he said miserably. "You luh-love him?"

"I do."

"And you don't love me?"

She breathed, hoping for the best reaction from her response: "No, Zeke. I am not in love with you like you are in love with me. For any sort of ways I've ever lead you on, intentional or not, I apologize with all my heart. I understand you're in pain." She smiled sadly. "But we were kids. We're not now, are we?"

Tears dripping off of his nose, Zexion shook his head slowly.

Kairi continued, "But, although I do not love you, I can never thank you enough for saving me and Sora. I thank you for giving me the chance to love, even though it was not with you. I owe my very life to you."

That hit Zexion hard. He laughed tearfully and said, "Dammit. Maybe I'm not as smart as everyone makes me out to be."

"Yes, you are. You're as smart as they come. Which makes me even feel worse. You could have done some amazing things."

"Oh, I am." Now Zexion's voice had returned to its coldness, the way he would speak to fellow Members, almost devoid of all emotion. "I _am_ doing some amazing things. As much as you feel sorry for me, O'Cooper, I do not want your pity. Yes…I shall spare you two in returns for the apology, but the damage you have done to me is permanent. I shan't be changed, even under _your_…beautiful…gaze."

Sora and Kairi said nothing; they just stared at the sociopath with a mixture of horror and confusion. This man truly was a puzzle nobody in their right mind could figure out. If anything, _he_ was the Eighth Wonder of the World.

Zexion laughed cruelly and said, "What? You thought you struck more nerves than one? We are pawns on the opposite sides of the field. You've killed three of my colleagues. For now, you live, but as soon as we meet again, I will not hesitate to kill you. Either of you." He looked at Kairi. "You now know my darkest secret. You now know what makes me, me. I very much hope that you remember all of this in our next encounter.

"For, if I perish in this struggle of ours, there is not another person in this world that I would rather die at the hands of than yours, Kairi O'Cooper."

Car brakes screeched from the street and the sounds of car doors opening and closing came next.

"Sora!" cried Don's voice.

Mick's came after: "Kairi! Where are you two?"

"Go," demanded Zexion. "Go to them. I need to stay here…and see something. Organization-business with traitors and such."

"Come with us," whispered Kairi. "We can get you help."

"The sweetest fucking thing," the intellect grunted, and pulled her towards him, kissing her full on the lips. She kissed back, ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying the delicious passion he was giving her.

Then they broke apart, both breathing heavily.

Zexion turned and limped down the alleyway.

Halfway through his walk, he turned back to the two again and said, "Goodbye. I love you, Kairi. Good luck."

The two watched him return to the rubble of the building, both silent. Although Kairi did not see it, Sora's face was absolutely rigid. Intense jealousy and hatred burned in his chest. How could she? How could she kiss him like that? The only ever person she kissed like that was…well, Sora himself! Or…or was it? Was he the only one for her?

Don and Mick ran into the alleyway, fatherly concerns over both their faces.

"Are you two okay?" asked Mick, hugging both of them.

"Fuck you, Mick," Sora managed to laugh. "We could've used you a couple hours ago."

"I'm so, so sorry. But I had to talk to Chip and Dale."

"Those pilot twins?"

"Yes. They have information on my other group of agents. Important information."

"Which is…?"

"Classified."

"I hate you, _Senator_."

"Are you shot?"

"Shot, cut, burned, slightly maimed, but otherwise I'm good."

"And you, Kairi?"

"I'm banged up a little, too," she said, forcing a chuckle. Sora shot her a dark look that again she did not see. "But I'll live."

"What happened here?"

"It's a whole story," said Sora gravely. "And it began at this exact fucking place around a month or so ago."

Mick laughed heartily, "Yes, I understand that."

"Oh, you meant the up-to-date part? That's classified."

"Smart-ass. Let's get back to my penthouse. The fight can wait for a while; let's just relax today. Sound good?"

"But the Organization…they're getting more violent…"

"The Organization can wait another day. Dammit, Sora, you really _are_ still a kid, huh? Can't even acknowledge that even heroes don't fight ceaselessly. Let's get some damn breakfast at Susie's. I'm dying for some strawberry pancakes. That's all you should be dying for, too, at the moment. Don't worry about the Organization. We'll face them again eventually, yes, but I can assure you Sora. The next time we do…

"…we'll all do it together."

Sora grinned and nodded. Then, with his friends' help, he walked out of the alleyway, turning his back on the life-changing vacation that had brought him into all of this; it would have seemed like something awful, like a mess, but very much like the world, this entire adventure had had ups and downs, and although he would be troubled by his recent past, he would also be thankful for the wonderful friend with whom he had shared it.

* * *

Axel stared at the body in disbelief. No, this could not be happening. It just…couldn't…no…

The girl was laying in the rubble, her throat torn open, her pale skin splattered with red. Xion's pretty-lashed eyes were closed, as if she were sleeping. The rising sun shone its rays upon her, as if she were an angel. She looked like one before, certainly, but now she was a mess. An absolute mess.

Axel was at a loss for words. He did nothing except stare.

He had rigged the place up to kill Marluxia in order to save Ryan and his girlfriend from a horrific death. The girl had not been spared.

Instantly, it came to his mind what he was going to tell Roxas. How the hell could he explain this? Hell, their _friend_ was dead. One of the three amigos lay before him, dead as a doornail.

Axel bowed his head, not yet fully crying but getting pretty darn close. He felt absolutely dreadful.

When he looked up, he saw Zexion limping towards him. He looked a lot older than usual, and his eyes were red and puffy.

"Zexion!" he choked. "Zexion! What…what happened?"

Zexion's cold, calculating eyes went down to Axel's right hand. Slowly, Axel raised what was in it to his face: the detonator. He looked back at Zexion, and saw that his superior had drawn a pistol.

Realization came over the pyro, and he stammered, "Oh, sh-shit. L-look, I can eh-explain-"

_Bam_!

The first bullet from _Moira_'s barrel collided into Axel's left lung, disintegrating it.

_Bam_!

The second planted itself within his stomach. He doubled over.

_Bam_!

The third and last bullet hit Axel directly in the heart. The impact of all three made him jag backwards. His back hit a piece of concrete wall sticking up from the ground amongst the rubble, and he slid down it, leaving a trail of dark blood above him.

His eyes wide in shock, Axel looked up at the pink morning sky and spat a quart of blood. It landed right back into his face.

He was vaguely aware of someone approaching him. Perhaps it was his good friend coming to tell him everything was okay, that all was forgiven, and that more great times were about to be had.

"Roxas?" croaked Axel.

Zexion fired again. Axel's blood showered him. It felt rather delightful, rather cooling after so much heat. It doused his inner fire.

A strong hand grasped his shoulder. He turned to see Vexen, looking horrified.

"He's the traitor," spat Zexion. "Lured me into the Hotel and blew the entire thing sky high. I dunno why he wanted me dead, but I'm guessing it was him and Marluxia."

Sadly, Vexen said, "We'll ask Roxas about it. Such a damn shame."

"I guess so. How'd you get here?"

"Xigbar drove me. He told me Axel had the O'Cooper girl."

"She escaped. I had her and the Keyblader."

"What happened?"

"Let's just say I got overpowered."

Vexen stared at Zexion hard. Then, he said, rather excitedly, "No matter. No matter my friend! There's been an extraordinary turn of events. I've come into contact with someone called the Proxy. He's a very helpful…something."

"Something?"

"Yes. There's big, _big_ news for us, Zexion."

"What is it?"

Vexen grinned and shook with exhilaration as Xigbar walked up the pile of rubble, looking absolutely traumatized at Axel's body. He knelt down beside it, then looked up and saw the gun in Zexion's hand. He bit his lip and stared at Axel again, like he was putting together some puzzle. Zexion watched this process with disdain, but then also with some fear; what was the assassin thinking?

It did not matter, for what Vexen next whispered into Zexion's ear made the cold-hearted intellect forget all other matters, from Kairi to Axel to Xigbar.

Seven words. Seven words was all it took to sweep Zexion's breath away.

Into his friend's ear, Vexen whispered them:

"We found it. We found Kingdom Hearts."

**...**

**...**

**...**

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**...**

**...**

**...**

**Thank you, all loyal and supporting fans. Thank you, hajikurazaki19, for your amazing inspiration and for the fun time we had writing this amazing story. **

**And thank you, FFNet We were happy to cleanse you of stupidity, at least if it was only for a little while in your long history.**

**Has**

**A**

**Nice**

**Day**

**And stay tuned for the "**_**The Nobody Virus**_**"-extras! **


	28. Epilogue: Sunday: The Day of Rest

**Here you go, lovely readers. A nice epilogue to wrap things up.**

**Enjoy.  
**

* * *

_Sunday: The Day of Rest_

Aqua frowned as she started at the headline of the day's newspaper. In bold, across the top of the page read: **GRAND HOTEL BOMBED!**

"It is sad, Angelina."

Aqua looked up. She was once again sitting in the office of Julian Fair, but beside her sat a man who was only a few years older. He had dazzling blue eyes, and it was obvious that he normally wore a laid-back smile, but it was pulled into a frown. For some reason, it looked wrong.

Aqua folded the paper and threw it across the room. "Is this some kind of joke to you?" She stood slowly. "You think this is some kind of game?"

Julian frowned deeply and shook his head. "I had nothing to do with this I assure you."

Aqua folded her arms and glanced at the man who had sit beside her. The man glanced back, and when he realized Aqua had been staring at him, he blushed and looked away. Though he still kept the frown that did not suit him.

Aqua turned back to Julian. "It doesn't matter. This complicates things."

"Please, darling," Julian retorted lightly. "When is it ever not complicated? I am displeased that that hotel has been destroyed, but that can't be your primary concern right now, can it? Don't you have more important things to focus on?" The change in his tone made Aqua flush angrily.

"I've been thinking about it, yes." She paused. "But, I have no intention of making that deal with you. It's far too risky on my part."

"I take it you two don't like each other." Julian chuckled. "I figured as much."

The man cleared his throat and stood up. "This isn't entirely true."

Julian smirked. "Oh? Well, tell me. How are you warming up to Miss Angelina Godfrey?"

The man sighed and glanced at Aqua. He was nervous, and it wasn't quite clear why. He seemed to have a firm grasp on who he was, but he faltered a little. It had to be Julian's abrasive demeanor that made him so inwardly shaky.

"We…don't exactly see eye to eye."

Julian laughed, becoming more approachable, but still an intimidating force. "She's getting on your nerves, I see."

"No!" Cried the man. "No, it's nothing like that."

"I beg to differ," Aqua growled. See looked at Julian, who had turn his back on them. He was staring out the window. New York City was bustling beneath him as usual.

"You know that Sunday is the day of rest, right?" Julian said. "We should all be relaxing right now. We should be with family, unwinding from our busy lives, enjoying each other's company." He sighed. "Whatever happened to that?"

"It died in your arms."

Julian chuckled under his breath. "Zack, that was rude."

Aqua looked at the man, slightly surprised. "Zack."

Julian smiled. "Yes, this is my son. A well-rounded man, I'd say. Slightly clouded in judgment, but that can easily be fixed."

Zack blinked slowly. "What do you want with me? I thought I wasn't ever allowed to return. Isn't that what you said? 'I don't ever want to see you again.' Wasn't that the last thing you said to me?"

Julian chewed on his lower lip. "Something along those lines, I'm sure. But, bear with me, Zack. I was just trying to secure your future. It's not my fault you're impatient. You want nice things? Daddy had to work for them."

"I'm not a child, you know," Zack retorted. "I wasn't then either. You didn't have to push me out."

Aqua kept her eyes low, but she couldn't help but speak up. "He didn't push you out."

Julian smiled wickedly. "Oh? Confession time?" He sat at his desk. "Oh, yes, Angelina, do tell. It's not like he would even believe you."

Zack looked from Julian to Aqua and back again. "What's this about?"

Aqua was quiet for a long time. "You weren't allowed back into the country for a reunion. You were brought here for a specific reason—"

"That got interrupted because someone decided to play God and blow up a hotel." Julian stood quickly. "So, now you have to stay here until I can figure out what to do about our situation. Angelina will stay with you."

Aqua puffed her chest out. "I will do no such thing. I have my own matters to attend to. He's your responsibility."

Julian slammed his fists on his desk. "He will not be my responsibility until he gets between your legs, you ungrateful cunt!"

Aqua approached Julian with as much spite and anger she could. "You know, I'm getting really tired of people calling me that. Get off your high horse, Julian, or you're going to regret it."

"Are you threatening me?"

That's not a threat." Aqua leaned back and turned around. "That's a promise."

Julian sputtered, trying to get his words out fast enough. It seemed almost unreal how tense the room had grown. Zack remained silent, not wanting to step into the fire that had been ignited. He couldn't tell who was angrier, Julian or Aqua.

Julian wheezed. "Okay, let's work this out. Angelina, please. Be reasonable. We can make a deal, can't we?"

"Julian, the only reason you're still breathing, is because I don't go back on my word." Aqua headed towards the door. "But, you are wearing my patience thin. If you have anything important to say, say it now."

Julian folded his arms. "You're not going to win."

"Wanna bet?"

Julian followed Aqua anxiously. "I mean it. You don't know what kind of people are out there. Please, Angelina. Reconsider. I'll be good, I promise."

Aqua smiled. "I feel like I've been saying this too much lately. It's too late for me already. Name your price."

Julian paused. "We already discussed this. You know what I want."

Aqua laughed. "I assure you that I'll be dead long before I get that kind of time. Whatever your number, I'll triple it. I don't wish to work with you anymore, Julian. I'm getting out."

"You can't leave." Julian said defiantly. "I have more power, more resources."

Aqua hummed. "I think I'll manage. Name your price."

Julian was about to protest, but then he hummed with the same arrogance. "Everything."

Aqua nodded. "So be it. You better be prepared for the shitstorm that'll follow."

"I'm not worried."

Aqua fell silent. Julian, for a moment, thought that he had won. That he was able to exert his power over Aqua and reclaim her as his personal scapegoat, but his face turned the most disgusting shade of green when Aqua smiled in his face and turned on her heels.

"So be it."

As soon as Aqua left, Julian dropped his front. Underneath was a seething mass of hatred and spite. He completely ignored Zack as he rushed to his desk and picked up his phone. Zack glanced at the door, then back at the man who contributed to his creation. He had never really had an attachment to his father, and Aqua didn't seem too warm to him either, but his gut was telling him to move.

He skirted out the door.

"Angelina!"

Aqua froze briefly, but pressed forward.

Zack hurried to her side. "Angelina, hold on."

Aqua pulled her arm out of Zack's reach. "Look, I don't know why I even agreed to pick you up. It was stupid and conniving, and I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"What's going on here?" Zack asked. "I don't understand."

Aqua stepped into the elevator and pushed Zack away. "It's not your place to understand. Just leave me alone."

Zack stopped the doors from closing, and edged in. "I'm not like him. I'm not bad."

Aqua poked her tongue in the side of her cheek. "All you Fairs are the same. You just haven't been given the resources yet."

Zack leaned on the opposite side of the elevator from Aqua. "I can prove it. I can be a good guy. I won't be like that. I promise."

Aqua frowned. "I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on," Zack said. "One date."

Aqua blushed. "I…"

"If I can prove I'm not like him, would you go on a date with me?"

When the elevator doors opened, Aqua rushed out and left the building, Zack trying his best to keep up. By the time Zack had made it outside, Aqua was nowhere to be seen, and he silently cursed himself for being so persistent.

_I shouldn't have been so eager. Damnit._

* * *

Zexion twitched impatiently. Vexen had taken care of his wounds, stitching them up perfectly. And now, Zexion was staring at a computer screen, face tinged blue, teeth grit. He was hunched over in pain, but his excitement was building as his eyes darted across the sea of ones and zeros.

"It's laid out completely," Vexen whispered. "All the formulas, all the charts. All the pieces are there."

"This truly is exciting," Zexion muttered. He groaned softly. "When do we start?"

Vexen swept about his lab and rifled through numerous desks. Files were all over his room, and the only distinguishable light source was the blue from the computer, and the muted green from The Womb. Dusk moved around impatiently.

"As soon as Xehanort has devised the proper plan, we will leave."

"Where is it?" Zexion. "Kingdom Hearts. Does it say?"

Vexen shook his head. "It only says that the most powerful among us will know." He paused. "I'm assuming that means Xehanort, but I haven't had the chance to speak with him yet."

Zexion frowned. "He's not going to be happy when he finds out what happened."

Vexen chuckled. "Of course not. You killed Axel, Axel killed Marluxia, and Roxas and Xion are missing. To him, that death toll is far too high."

Zexion blinked slowly and sighed. "I've already written my report. It's sitting on his desk."

Vexen bent over one of his desks and scribbled a formula on a spare sheet of paper. He seemed slightly preoccupied, and he kept glancing at Dusk. "Well, we'll just have to wait until someone shows up. Hopefully it'll be soon, or I'll have to call Xehanort to deliver him the bad news. He's gonna be pissed."

Zexion folded his arms and continued to stare at the ones and zeros flashing across the screen. "They were traitors."

Vexen hummed. "That may be true, Six. But you certainly overstepped your line of authority. You should have let Xehanort or Saix deal with it. It wasn't your place."

"Shut up," Zexion whispered. "I did what was right. You know it. I know it."

Vexen laughed. "My apologies, Six. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm sure you were doing what was best for the Organization, but facts are facts, and you overstepped your authority."

Zexion glared at Vexen. He knew Vexen was right, but wasn't about to freely admit it. The Organization had been betrayed. It wasn't his fault that Axel was a traitor. He had taken care of it, not once thinking about the consequences that may have come afterward.

"He'll be most displeased," Vexen said after a short bout of silence. "But, I'm sure he'll go easy on you."

Zexion scoffed.

"You are his favorite," Vexen added jokingly.

They were once again enveloped in silence. Dusk pressed itself to the glass of The Womb, making strangled hisses and dull clicks. Zexion stared at it for a while. Truly one of the greatest creations of all time, and he couldn't figure out why Vexen was keeping it in a tank still.

"I can see you're curious."

Zexion nodded, but did not respond.

"Allow me," Vexen said. He pulled out a file. "Dusk has shown amazing growth. In fact, he is fully developed and ready to go. But, I want to take him further."

Zexion smirked. "Already taking the next step? Our first test run isn't even finished."

"Science waits for no one, as we will all soon learn," Vexen said. "Anyway, I want to begin to transform him, but I don't know exactly how to go about doing that. I believe that by keeping him in water, he will be accustomed to wet environments, and the lack of visible light will teach him to adjust to darkness."

"Do you have a plan?"

Vexen shrugged. "I don't know yet. I've been steadily introducing other types of DNA to him, but he rejects them all. I fear he may be too human."

Zexion looked away. "Perhaps he just needs to be simplified. Sit on it for a little bit."

The loud slam of the front door drew Zexion's attention.

"It seems we have a visitor. I'll see who it is."

"Please, let me know if it's Xehanort." Vexen said. "I must speak with him before he deals with you. It's important."

Zexion left Vexen's lab and made his way to the lounge. He had half expected Xehanort to be there, and felt a tiny glimmer of apprehension as got closer, but muffled sobs stopped him.

"This can't be happening…this can't be happening."

It didn't take Zexion long to recognize Roxas's voice. It sounded scared and slightly unaware.

"Come on, Axel," Roxas muttered. "Pick up."

Zexion edged away from the lounge. Roxas grew more and more scared as he tried repeatedly to call his best friend to no avail. Even Xion had refused to pick up her phone.

"Where are you guys?"

Zexion furrowed his brow. Was Roxas part of all this, too? There was only one way to find out.

"They're dead." He growled as he stepped from his hiding place.

Roxas spun around. "Zexion? What are you talking about?"

"Axel is dead," Zexion said finally. "And if Xion had anything to do with this, I'd say she is too."

Roxas faltered. "What are you talking about? If she had something to do with what?"

"Axel betrayed the Organization, and I hope you had nothing to do with it, or you'll never live to see another day."

Roxas breathed heavily, feeling that hopelessness he had been steeping in his whole life before Xehanort had taken him in. Axel was dead? Xion too? How could that be? The fire crotch had just spoken to him yesterday morning. How could he be gone?

"Xehanort will want to speak with you," Zexion muttered. "He'll want to know if you had a part in this. He'll want to know why I had to shoot that motherfucker."

Roxas froze.

It was a horrible feeling as the words Zexion spoke curdled his blood and threw his heart into a tempo that could not be matched. Roxas couldn't hear anything as he stared at the intellect, wishing to God he could kill him. He had killed Axel, his only friend, his only _anybody. _

He couldn't quite tell if he was angry or sad anymore, and he had only been dimly aware that Zexion had even left him alone to simmer in his own agony. He had to be lying. He had to be. That flamboyant asshole couldn't be gone forever, it just _could not _be true.

He had to be lying. And there was only one person he could ask to find the truth.

"Hello, Roxas," Xehanort said solemnly.

"Zexion is a lying fuck!" Roxas roared. "He is a motherfucking liar, and I know it."

"I assure you, your anger is misplaced, Roxas," Xehanort answered. Roxas could just imagine his face. It was unblinking, calm, thoughtful, and very worried. "Please, tell me why you believe this."

"Axel is not dead!" Roxas blurted. "He is a fucking psychopathic liar! He's just mind-fucking me."

Xehanort was quiet for a long time. Roxas could hear newspaper shuffling in the background, and the tone of Xehanort's voice had changed drastically when he spoke again.

"I'm sorry…"

Roxas growled viciously and threw his cell phone across the room. Oathkeeper and Oblivion radiated heat, singing the leather of his Organization robes. He was furious. Mountains could tremble before him.

"FUCK!"

But, he wasn't answered. He was met with the grim silence of how much he was really cared for. He fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, feeling completely lost. There was no one for him anymore.

_I've gotta get out of here…there's nothing left…_

Roxas jumped to his feet and ran out the front door, still crying, but now seething with an ungodly hatred. A hatred of Zexion, of Xehanort, of everything. And he didn't stop running until his legs gave from fatigue and crashed into the pavement. A police officer saw him, and helped him to his feet.

"You okay, son?"

Roxas wrenched his arm away. "Fuck you."

The officer, who had been friendly before, frowned. "You can't go any farther. This is a crime scene."

Roxas readied himself. "Try and stop me." And he pushed past.

The police officer grabbed him to stop him, but an instant later, he was watching his own arm twitch on the pavement. Roxas kicked him back, Oathkeeper and Oblivion drawn, their blades dripping red.

He didn't wait for a plea before he killed the police officer and made his way down the block. He hadn't been able to see why he had been denied further entry until he saw the first huge pile of brick and dust. It was an intricate statue, though it was smashed and sad looking.

As he came closer and closer to the ruins of a destroyed hotel. Roxas felt this sense of forbearing. Like he was an uninvited guest to a funeral. Firefighters and policemen alike were removing bricks from alleyways, sifting through the rubble they could move themselves, pulling items from the wreckage.

"What's going on?" Roxas said to himself.

Dust billowed out in clouds, and some of the ruins were still smoking. Roxas tried to stay out of sight. People were moving everywhere, and the only thing that seemed to be missing was the cries of dying children and wounded mothers. It truly was war. They grayness of the street, the dust in people's hair.

But, the one thing that drew Roxas's attention was not the melting brick or the twisted steel. No, it was three white sheets that were laid across the ground, splotches of crimson marking what had to be horrifying wounds and deep gashes.

Roxas slid over to the bodies, sweating and tensing up. The fear in his heart grew with every step and he stood over the bodies with an unsettling lump in his throat that desperately wanted to splash on the pavement. He stared at two of the bodies in particular. One that was very tall, and one that was small.

He sobbed again and pinched the edge of the white sheet. He squeezed his eyes shut and held the sheet up for a full minute before he willed himself to open his eyes.

The first thing he did was vomit, but he made sure to turn away from the dead green stare of Axel. Even in death he looked like a smartass. A tiny smirk permanently etched on his lips, near flawless stony skin. It was a form of beauty that was untouched by many, and so fleeting, for it wouldn't be long before his flesh caved in, and the decomposition process would begin.

And, right next to him, in just as equal a beauty, lay Xion. She was more like an angel, body crushed and slightly charred, but still maintaining the resilience it had in life. Her face was forever in shock. There was no muted emotion, for her eyes were closed for all eternity, and the slight parting of her lips made her look like a startled little girl. She was gone.

And, this is what made Roxas unreachable.

He couldn't think straight at all. He was too busy trying to figure out how to pull himself together long enough to make a plan. Any plan. Any plan that could get him to safety, for he had only one thought in his head.

Only one true thought.

_God help the world._

* * *

**Has nice day. :)**

**Until next time.  
**


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